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OCT  It  1918 
^■lOOiC M. 


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Division 

Section 


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PUBLICATIONS  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  MANCHESTER 


HISTORICAL  SERIES,  No.  XXV. 


Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


Published  by  the  University  of  Manchester  at 
The  University  Press  (H.  M.  McKechnie,  Secretary) 
12  Lime  Grove,  Oxford  Road,  Manchester 

Longmans,  Green  &  Co. 

London  :  39  Paternoster  Row 
New  York  :  443-449  Fourth  Avenue,  and  Thirtieth  Street 

Bombay  :  8  Hornby  Road 
Calcutta  :  303  Bowbazar  Street 
Madras  :  1 67  Mount  Road 


[ALE  RIGHTS  RESERVED]. 


Germany 

Nineteenth 


A  S  cries  of  Lectures 


EDITED  BY 

C.  H.  HERFORD 


MANCHESTER 

At  the  University  Press 


Longmans,  Green  &  Co. 
London,  New  York,  Bombay,  &c. 
19L5 


University  of  Manchester  Publications 

No.  XCVI. 


Pages  1  to  127  constituting  the  First  Seines  of  these  Lectures  may  be 
had  separately  at  the  price  of  2 /6  net ;  pages  128  to  end  (the  Second 
Series )  at  the  price  of  3/6  net. 


Sherratt  &  Hughes,  Printers,  Manchester  and  London. 


NOTE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 


This  book,  first  published  in  1912,  was  based  upon  a 
course  of  lectures  delivered  in  19  n  in  the  University, 
largely  through  the  initiative  of  Professor  Herford.  The 
relations  between  England  and  Germany  had  long  left 
much  to  be  desired,  and  it  was  believed  that  appreciations 
by  British  scholars  of  the  part  played  by  Germany  in 
the  development  of  modern  civilisation  might  serve  to 
promote  more  friendly  feelings  between  the  two  nations. 
The  welcome  given  to  the  volume  by  the  press  of  both 
countries,  the  exhaustion  of  two  large  editions  within 
less  than  two  years,  and  the  issue  of  a  German  translation 
by  Professor  Breul,  of  Cambridge,  suggested  that  this 
expectation  was  not  wholly  a  vain  one. 

The  studies  embraced  in  the  earlier  editions  were 
designedly  drawn  upon  broad  lines,  and  omitted  much. 
Accordingly,  when,  in  the  early  part  of  1914,  it  was  clear 
that  a  third  edition  would  soon  be  wanted,  three  other 
scholars  were  invited  to  contribute  additional  studies 
from  fresh  points  of  view.  The  University  was  fortunate 
in  securing  the  co-operation  of  experts,  such  as  Dr. 
Bernard  Bosanquet,  who  has  written  on  philosophy,  of 
Professor  Peake,  who  has  contributed  a  study  on 
theology,  and  of  Mr.  Ferruccio  Bonavia,  who  has  treated 
of  music.  The  lectures  on  these  subjects  were  delivered 
in  the  University  during  the  course  of  last  spring,  and 
by  the  summer  of  this  year,  all  three  studies  were  in 
type.  The  sudden  outbreak  of  the  present  calamitous 
war  frustrated  the  hopes  of  those  who  had  steadily 
believed  that  the  best  method  to  promote  international 


VI 


Note  to  the  Third  Edition 


goodwill  was  to  dispel  the  cloud  of  suspicion  by  the 
spread  of  sound  knowledge.  It  seemed  as  if  the  book 
had  failed  in  its  objects,  and  might  quietly  be  put  aside 
as  no  longer  possessing  any  practical  value.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  demand  for  copies  has  continued  on  both 
sides  of  the  Atlantic,  and  a  refusal  to  reissue  the  work 
might  well  give  rise  to  misconception.  The  writers  can 
no  longer  take  the  optimistic  line  which  they  so  recently 
felt  justified  in  assuming,  yet  they  do  not  regret  that,  in 
their  anxiety  to  take  a  favourable  view  of  Germany’s 
attitude,  they  under-estimated  the  sinister  influences 
which  for  the  present  have  proved  triumphant.  For 
this  reason  they  offer  to  the  public  this  edition.  If  no 
longer  a  friendly  eirenicon,  the  book  remains  as  an 
historical  document,  which  retains  whatever  validity  it 
ever  possessed,  notwithstanding  the  frustration  of  the 
hopes  with  which  it  was  originally  put  forth.  It  may 
still  have  its  value  as  suggesting  what  a  group  of  British 
scholars,  trained  in  various  schools  of  learning  and 
different  branches  of  knowledge,  thought,  and  in 
essentials  still  think,  was  a  just  tribute  to  pay  to  the 
activities  of  the  German  nation.  The  Germany  of 
militant  aggression,  of  violated  faith,  of  cynical  self- 
seeking  and  disregard  of  the  honourable  traditions  of 
civilised  warfare  is  new  to  them,  as,  in  its  extremest 
manifestations  it  is  to  the  world  at  large.  So  far  as  it 
may  have  been  latent,  it  lay  outside  their  purpose. 

The  studies  are,  with  the  consent  of  the  writers, 
reprinted  in  the  form  in  which  they  originally  appeared. 
No  doubt  there  are  passages  in  more  than  one  of  the 
chapters,  which  the  authors,  were  they  writing  now, 
would  have  phrased  differently.  Substantially,  however, 
the  writers  are  content  to  have  written  what  they  have 


Note  to  the  Third  Edition 


Vll 


written,  and  they  prefer  that  some  touches  of  optimism 
should  remain,  rather  than  that  misconceptions  should 
be  aroused  by  any  attempt  to  “  bring  up  to  date  ”  the 
original  essays.  No  alterations  whatever  have  been 
admitted  to  the  text,  and  the  only  addition  is  a  brief 
note  at  the  beginning  of  the  paper  of  Dr.  Holland  Rose. 

We  have  also  to  look  forward  to  the  time  when  an 
honourable  settlement  becomes  possible  without  relin¬ 
quishing  the  objects  for  which  we  have  reluctantly  drawn 
the  sword.  It  can  at  least  be  hoped  that  a  book  aiming 
at  the  appreciation  of  the  saner  and  salutary  aspects  of 
the  German  nation  and  the  German  state  may  not 
stand  in  the  way  of  the  terribly  difficult  task  of  building 
up  once  more  mutual  good-will  and  respect  between 
nations  which,  in  the  future,  as  in  the  past,  will  have 
somehow  to  live  and  work  together. 

T.  F.  TOUT. 

io th  November ,  1914. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION. 


The  present  volume  is  based  upon  a  short  course  of  public 
lectures  delivered  during  the  Lent  Term  of  19  n  in  the 
University  of  Manchester.  The  course  was  one  of  a  series 
upon  salient  topics  of  modern  history  and  literature,  arranged 
by  the  University,  at  the  instance  of  the  representatives  of 
journalism  in  South-east  Lancashire,  for  the  benefit, 
primarily,  of  the  younger  journalists  of  the  district.  Al¬ 
though  actually  attended  by  a  much  larger  and  more 
general  audience,  the  lectures  had  thus  no  merely  academic 
aim.  In  choosing  the  subject  of  the  course  the  promoters 
felt  that  the  diffusion  of  a  better  understanding  of  the 
history  of  the  German  people  during  the  last  century  may 
almost  be  called  a  matter  of  practical  urgency.  They  were 
impressed  by  the  fact  that,  while  the  last  forty  years  of  that 
history  are  comparatively  familiar  to  Englishmen,  the  two 
generations  which  lie  between  the  opening  of  the  century 
and  the  foundation  of  the  empire  are  involved,  to  a  quite 
exceptional  degree,  in  the  obscurity  and  neglect  which 
commonly  attach  to  the  period  immediately  preceding  our 
own.  The  consequence  has  been  two-fold.  For  want  of  the 
historic  background  indispensable  to  true  proportion  and 
perspective,  even  that  relatively  familiar  recent  period  has 
been,  and  must  be,  in  many  ways  misconceived  and  mis¬ 
judged.  The  work  of  Bismarck  wears  a  very  different  aspect 
according  as  we  have,  or  have  not,  read  the  entire  chapter 
of  which  he  wrote  the  decisive  closing  page.  And,  further, 
the  place  of  Germany  in  the  civilisation  of  to-day,  great 
and  conspicuous  as  it  unquestionably  is,  must  still  be  im¬ 
perfectly  measured  unless  we  realise  at  how  many  points 


X 


Preface 


that  civilisation  itself  bears  the  impress  of  her  intellectual 
fecundity  and  of  her  elaborating  mind.  It  is  the  aim  of  the 
present  lectures  to  make  more  generally  accessible  some  of 
the  materials  for  a  juster  estimate  of  contemporary  Germany 
from  both  these  points  of  view.  Of  completeness  there 
could  naturally  be  no  question.  The  four  or  five  aspects  of 
German  history  which  have  been  singled  out  might  easily 
have  been  multiplied ;  but  circumstances  compelled  selection, 
and  it  may  be  claimed  for  the  aspects  chosen  that  they  are 
both  particularly  liable  to  misunderstanding,  and  particularly 
fruitful  when  understood. 

The  lectures  have  been  revised  for  publication  by  their 
authors,  who  have  also  supplied  notes  with,  in  several  cases, 
considerable  additions  to  the  text.  No  uniformity  of  plan 
has  been  attempted,  and  the  four  lecturers  are  severally  and 
solely  responsible  for  what  appears  under  their  names.  We 
are  indebted  for  the  Index  to  Miss  M.  Woodcock,  B.A.,  of 
the  John  Rylands  Library. 

It  is  hoped  in  future  years  to  arrange  similar  courses 
upon  the  more  recent  history  of  other  European  peoples. 

‘  University  Extension  ’  work  of  this  sort  has  long  ceased  to 
need  defence ;  but  one  may  venture  to  suggest  that  those 
branches  of  it  which  seek  to  enlarge  and  deepen  the  sense 
of  citizenship  are  nowhere  more  in  place  than  in  a  great 
civic  university,  for  which  the  townsman  in  the  next  street 
and  the  scholar  in  the  antipodes  are  equally  neighbours, 
and  where  the  local  tie  is  vital  in  proportion  as  it  furthers 
the  catholicity  of  knowledge. 


2 otk  February ,  1912. 


C.  H.  H. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Note  to  the  Third  Edition.  By  Professor  T.  F.  Tout  v 
Preface  to  the  First  Edition  -----  ix 
Short  Summary  ------  xiii-xxiii 

I.  The  Political  History.  By  J.  HOLLAND 
ROSE,  Litt.D.  Author  of  “  The  Life  of 
Napoleon  I,”  “The  Life  of  Pitt,”  “The 
Development  of  the  European  Nations,” 

&C.  -------  i — 22 

II.  &  III.  The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History. 

By  C.  PI.  IlERFORD,  Litt.D.,  Professor  of 
English  Literature  in  the  University  of 
Manchester  ------  23 — 77 

IV.  The  Economic  History.  By  E.  C.  K. 

Conner,  M.A.,  Professor  of  Economics 

in  the  University  of  Liverpool  -  -  79 — 99 

V.  The  History  of  Education.  By  M.  E.  Sadler, 

M.A.,  LL.D.,  C.B.,  Vice-Chancellor  of  the 
University  of  Leeds  ;  late  Professor  of 
the  History  of  Education  in  the  Univer¬ 
sity  of  Manchester  -  -  -  -  101-127 

VI.  The  History  of  Theology.  By  A.  S.  Peake, 

D.D.,  Professor  of  Biblical  Exegesis  in 

the  University  of  Manchester  -  -131-184 

VII.  The  History  of  Philosophy.  By  Bernard 

Bosanquet,  LL.D.,  P'.B.A.  -  -  - 185-215 

VIII.  The  History  of  Music.  By  F.  BONAVIA  -217-242 

Index . 243-266 


GERMANY  IN  THE  19th  CENTURY. 


SHORT  SUMMARY. 


I.  THE  POLITICAL  HISTORY. 

By  Dr.  J.  Holland  Rose. 

Political  unity  achieved  in  different  ways  by  different  peoples, 
and  with  different  degrees  of  facility  and  speed.  In  Germany 
the  process  was  peculiarly  difficult  and  slow.  Various  grounds 
for  this :  the  Individualism  of  German  Character ;  Feudal 
Customs  ;  the  Reformation.  The  division  of  the  people  between 
Catholic  and  Protestant  faiths  in  nearly  equal  proportions, 
culminated  in  the  rivalry  of  Austria  and  Prussia.  Assailed  by 
revolutionary  France, — a  compact,  historic,  and  democratic  state, 
— Germany  made  a  half-hearted  resistance ;  her  people  largely 
in  sympathy  with  the  Revolution,  and  her  rulers  compromising 
for  a  share  in  the  spoils.  Futile  attempts  at  unity.  Francis  II. 
as  “  Emperor  of  Austria.”  Napoleon  as  a  “new  Charlemagne.” 
Impossibility  in  the  18th  century  of  a  permanent  world  state 
composed  of  different  nationalities.  His  financial  policy  parti¬ 
cularly  fatal.  The  hopes  of  German  unity  gradually  centred 
upon  Prussia.  Her  collapse  at  Jena  the  beginning  of  her  re¬ 
generation.  The  reforms  of  Stein  and  Scharnhorst.  Their  effect 
seen  in  the  national  rising  of  1813.  The  settlement  after  the 
fall  of  Napoleon.  Germany  now  consisted  of  39  states  instead 
of  200  ;  but  the  process  of  further  unification  not  facilitated  by 
the  change.  The  German  Confederation  of  1815 — 66  perpetu¬ 
ated  some  of  the  worst  defects  of  the  old  Holy  Roman  Empire. 
National  disappointment,  uprisings  and  demonstrations.  Two 
events  prepare  the  ground  for  the  future  union :  the  Zoll- 
verein,  bringing  the  smaller  German  states  into  commercial 
unity  with  Prussia ;  and  the  separation  of  Hanover  from  Eng¬ 
land.  The  national  movement  of  1848 — 9-  Its  temporary  fail¬ 
ure,  and  threatening  results  for  Prussia.  But  the  failure  only 
temporary.  The  success  of  Austria  increases  the  number  of  her 
enemies.  Cavour ;  Napoleon  III ;  Bismarck.  The  Prussian 
triumph  of  1866  conditioned  by  the  events  of  1859  and  1864. 


XIV 


Summary  of  Contents 


The  war  with  Denmark  misunderstood  in  England.  Bismarck’s 
policy  in  1866.  Napoleon’s  clumsy  effort  at  intervention  merely 
attached  South  Germany  to  Prussia.  The  crisis  of  1870 — 1. 
Important  bearing  upon  it  of  the  secret  mission  of  the  French 
General  Lebrun  to  Vienna,  in  June,  1870,  to  arrange  an  attack 
upon  Prussia  in  the  following  spring.  This  probably  became 
known  to  Bismarck  and  decided  his  action.  True  interpretation 
of  his  policy  of  “  blood  and  iron”;  not  the  best,  but  the  best 
possible  under  the  circumstances.  Grounds  for  the  annexation 
of  Elsass-Lothringen.  Foundation  of  the  German  Empire,  a 
reversion  to  the  union  vainly  sought  in  1814 — 5.  Its  constitu¬ 
tion.  The  functions  of  the  Kaiser ;  and  of  the  Reichstag.  The 
latter  without  Executive  power.  Increasing  friction,  due  to  this 
disability,  in  internal  affairs.  But  the  foreign  policy  of  the 
empire  has  consistently  made  for  peace.  The  Triple  Alliance, 
of  1882.  The  Dual  Alliance  (France  and  Russia)  of  1894. 
Germany’s  colonial  movement,  a  necessity  of  her  rapid  growth  in 
population  and  limited  territory.  Expansion  of  her  foreign 
trade ;  involving  a  great  navy.  Beginnings  of  friction  with 
England  in  the  colonies,  terminated  by  mutual  concessions. 
Policy  and  justice  of  these  concessions  on  the  part  of  England. 
The  agreement  of  1890,  received  with  anger  in  both  countries, 
and  therefore  presumably  in  the  main  equitable.  The  subse¬ 
quent  situation  between  England  and  Germany.  Geographical 
weakness  of  Germany,  compared  with  France.  Caution  inevi¬ 
tably  the  policy  of  Germany  so  long  as  the  Dual  Alliance  holds. 
Great  advantages  to  England  and  to  Europe  of  the  unity  of 
Germany .  p.  1 


II.  &III.  THE  INTELLECTUAL  AND  LITERARY  HISTORY. 

By  Professor  C.  H.  Herford. 

Enormous  extent  and  intricacy  of  the  subject.  The  lecture 
attempts  merely  to  distinguish  and  illustrate  the  main  currents 
of  the  history. 

I.  The  close  oj  the  eighteenth  century  in  Germany ,  France,  and 
England.  Contrast  of  the  political  impotence  of  Germany  at 
this  date  with  her  intellectual  greatness.  Outstripped  for  at 
least  200  years  by  France  and  England,  and  deriving  her  culture 
and  ideas  mainly  from  one  or  the  other,  she  began,  about  1760, 
to  add  astonishing  new  developments  of  her  own  to  their  cul¬ 
tural  acquisitions  and  results.  Hume,  Rousseau — Kant ;  Burke, 
Turgot,  Gibbon — the  German  historical  school ;  and  other 


Summary  of  Contents 


xv 


examples.  These  new  developments  due  to  (l)  a  more  wide¬ 
spread  and  systematic  Wissensdrang ;  (2)  a  peculiar  aptitude  for 
knowledge  in  three  domains,  ignored  or  incompletely  investi¬ 
gated  by  the  French  and  English  precursors ;  in  the  primitive  or 
elemental ,  the  organic  or  evolutionary ,  and  the  psychical,  modes  of 
existence.  Important  bearing  of  all  three,  both  upon  poetry, 
upon  philosophy,  and  upon  the  historical  and  natural  sciences. 
Hence,  while  in  England  and  France  at  this  time  the  "literary” 
and  the  specifically  less  "  intellectual history  ran  mainly  in 
widely  distinct  channels,  in  Germany  they  constantly  touched, 
frequently  mingled,  and  were  sometimes  completely  fused. 

II.  Goethe.  All  these  tendencies  summed  up  in  Goethe, 
whose  work  at  once  completes  the  German  eighteenth  century, 
and  provides  the  key  to  the  Germany  of  the  nineteenth.  His 
poetry  and  science ;  Erlebnis  and  experiment ;  his  elemental 
lyric  ;  his  evolutionary  thinking  :  Metamorphose  der  Pflanzen  ;  his 
studies  of  soul  history  :  Wilhelm  Meister  ;  Faust . 

III.  After  Goethe.  (i)  The  Scientific  Movement.  German 
Griindlichkeit.  Historic  science.  Critical  handling  of  sources 
and  authorities:  L.  v.  Ranke  (1795 — 1886).  The  Natural 
Sciences.  Combined  mastery  of  facts  and  fertility  in  ideas. 

IV.  (ii)  The  movement  towards  the  elemental ,  primitive,  naive,  in 
historic  research  and  in  literature.  The  "simplicity”  of  German 
character.  Exploration  of  German  antiquities  :  J.  Grimm  (1785 
— 1863).  Comparative  mythology  and  philology.  Folk-tales 
and  folk-song.  The  place  of  song  in  modern  German  life  ;  its 
folk-song  basis.  Heine  (1797 — 1851).  Tales  of  peasant-life: 
B.  Auerbach  (1812 — 1882),  F.  Reuter  (1810 — 1874),  G.  Keller 
(1819 — 1890).  His  Fin  Romeo  und  Julia  des  Dorfes. 

V.  (iii.)  The  application  of  evolutionary  ideas  in  philosophy  and 
history.  Sketch  of  the  rise  of  these  ideas.  Fruitful  union  of 
the  biological  conception  of  organism  with  the  political  and 
social  doctrine  of  progress.  Strong  and  weak  points  of  organic 
analogies  applied  to  society.  G.  F.  Hegel  (1770 — 1831)  and 
the  philosophy  of  history.  F.  Schleiermacher  and  the  philoso¬ 
phy  of  religion.  Evolutionary  ideas  applied  to  history  :  Savigny 
(1779 — 1 86 1 ).  Niebuhr  (1776 — 1831).  G.  Freytag.  Influence 
on  the  methods  of  later  historians  :  T.  Mommsen  (1817 — 1907) ; 
Town-biology:  F.  Gregorovius  (1 821 — 1891).  History  of  ideas  : 
J.  Burckhardt  (1818 — 1897). 

VI.  (iv.)  The  prestige  of  mind.  Effects,  for  better  or  worse, 
upon  German  civilisation  of  the  high  value  set  upon  thought  as 
thought,  upon  ideas  as  ideas.  Worship  of  Bildung.  Literary 
criticism.  The  idealist  systems.  Deep  self-consciousness  of  the 
German  race,  repeatedly  emerging  at  the  great  moments  of  its 
history,  and  in  its  greatest  men,  culminates  in  the  colossal  ideal- 


XVI 


Summary  of  Contents 


isms  of  the  early  nineteenth  century.  Hegel,  Fichte,  Schopen¬ 
hauer. — Wagner,  Nietzsche.  Strongly  marked  individuality  of 
their  thought ;  yet  national  or  universal  in  its  ultimate  scope. — 
The  decline  of  idealism  necessarily  lowered  the  “  prestige  of 
mind,”  which  is  partly  restored  by  the  steady  advance  of  psycho¬ 
logy.  W.  Wundt.  But  thought,  or  reason,  now  subordinated 
to  will.  The  worship  of  will  in  the  Bismarckian  age  and  state. 
H.  v.  Treitschke  (1834 — 1896).  Yet,  with  all  the  defects  of 
that  state,  it  is  will  illuminated  with  high  intelligence  and 
powerful,  if  incomplete,  social  sense.  English  and  German 
ideals  of  freedom.  The  peculiar  achievement  of  Germany  to 
have  proximately  reconciled  the  stubborn  individuality  of  the 
race  with  civilisation,  profound  inner  life  with  a  highly  organised 
state  ---  -  ------  p.  23 


IV.  THE  ECONOMIC  HISTORY. 

By  Professor  E.  C.  K.  Gonner. 

I.  During  the  nineteenth  century  Germany  passes  from  one 
industrial  system  to  another.  A  century  of  transition.  The 
chief  change  occurs  late  and  is  due  largely  to  forces  retarded  by 
certain  causes  and  finally  operating  with  great  effect.  Three 
features  of  the  last  part  of  the  century  :  (1)  Conscious  and  auto¬ 
cratic  state  action ;  (2)  Use  made  of  the  experience  of  other 
nations  as  to  similar  changes  ;  (3)  Position  occupied  by  other 
nations  when  Germany  enters  into  competition. 

In  addition,  the  agrarian  interests  of  Germany  must  be  borne 
in  mind. 

These  various  points  best  illustrated  by  a  sketch  of  the 
history  which  divides  itself  into  three  Periods  :  Period  of  Pre¬ 
paration,  Period  of  Tentative  Growth,  Period  of  Conscious 
Development. 

II.  First  Period  lasting  to  the  Forties — little  active  develop¬ 
ment,  but  considerable  preparation  for  change. 

(a)  Economic  condition  of  Germany  at  the  beginning  as  com¬ 
pared  with  that  of  England.  Germany  largely  under  the 
influence  of  bygone  times,  mainly  feudal,  both  as  to  country  and 
town  organisation,  and  little  affected  by  new  economic  forces. 

( b )  Causes  accounting  for  this  and  delaying  development ; 
Political  difficulties ;  Want  of  union  between  the  States,  espe¬ 
cially  on  the  economic  side,  e.g.,  tariffs,  etc.  ;  Lack  of  mobility 
of  labour  owing  to  systems  of  land  ownership  and  cultivation 
and  restrictive  trade  regulations  ;  Lack  of  capital. 


Summary  of  Contents  xvii 

(c)  On  the  other  hand,  opportunity  for  future  development 
achieved  by  (1)  Stein-Hardenberg  land  reforms,  1807 — 1850; 
(2)  early  Zollverein,  1834 — 1845. 

(d)  Position  of  country  at  close  of  period  evident  from  many 
tests,  e.g.,  comparatively  uniform  distribution  of  population — 
handwork — backward  state  of  mineral  development. 

Factory  system  in  infancy,  but  introduced  and  not  without 
results. 

III.  Second  Period  to  1870 — 1.  Change  coming  over  the 
country.  Trade  and  industry  affected  by  (l)  Political  conditions 
after  constitutional  settlement,  (2)  Rise  in  prices  owing  to  the 
gold  discoveries,  (3)  Removal  of  restrictions  on  industrial  action. 

(a)  Change  seen  in  rapid  growth  of  Banks  and  Companies 
about  1850;  railway  development  and  entry  of  Germany  as  an 
industrial  competitor  in  the  world’s  markets. 

( b )  On  other  hand,  its  position  weak  as  against  foreign  rivalry, 
especially  against  England.  Activity  of  the  fifties  not  continued 
in  succeeding  decade. 

IV  Third  Period  after  1871.  The  great  growth  of  industrial 
Germany.  Certain  immediate  effects  of  the  war.  Strength  of 
German  unity  and  influence  of  the  state.  The  use  of  the  French 
indemnity  in  new  coinage,  relief  of  debt ;  it  provides  a  fund  of 
ready  capital. 

(«)  Difficulties,  however,  grave:  (1)  Transition  in  industry 
and  suffering,  (2)  strong  foreign  competitors,  (3)  Agrarian  debt. 

( b )  Sources  of  strength — the  lessons  of  adversity — education 
and  science — sense  of  discipline. 

(c)  The  new  policy  :  (1)  Its  aims,  development  of  rich  mineral 
wealth,  freedom  from  foreign  industrial  dependence  and  mitiga¬ 
tion  of  social  difficulties  ;  (2)  its  means  firstly,  State  assistance  to 
industry.  Protectionist  Policy  from  1879  (duties  on  imports  of 
manufactures  accompanied  by  duties  on  imports  of  food  stuffs). 
State  ownership  of  railways.  State  subsidies ;  secondly ,  social 
reform  and  State  socialism. 

(d)  The  magnitude  of  recent  German  development.  Its 
particular  characteristics. 

V.  The  nature  of  the  economic  change  in  Germany  during 
the  nineteenth  century.  Its  resemblance  to  that  experienced 
by  other  countries.  Its  special  features.  This  illustrated  by 
comparison  and  contrast  with  England.  Differences  between 
the  two  nations  in  (1)  condition  before  and  at  the  time  of 
change,  (2)  method  in  which  it  is  treated,  (3)  results  -  p.  79 


XV111 


Summary  of  Contents 


V.  THE  HISTORY  OF  EDUCATION. 
By  Professor  M.  E.  Sadler. 


The  three  periods  in  the  educational  history  of  Germany  in 
the  Nineteenth  Century ;  and  in  that  of  England.  The  two 
series  nearly  coincident  in  date,  but  widely  different  in  character. 

I.  Germany. — Prussia,  since  the  outset  of  the  century,  has 
been  the  dominant  force  in  German  education  ;  but  the  smaller 
German  states  have  contributed  both  to  enrich  and  to  sustain 
the  common  educational  ideal.  The  rapid  advance  of  German 
education  during  the  century  due  chiefly  to  three  circumstances  : 

(a)  The  tradition,  in  several  states,  of  compulsory  education  ; 

(b)  The  still  more  widespread  tradition  of  intellectual  freedom  ; 
unrestricted  teaching  during  the  Eighteenth  Century  at  the 
universities  of  Halle  and  Gottingen.  Kant ;  Romanticism ;  (c) 
The  disasters  of  1806.  The  policy  of  regeneration  through 
education:  Stein;  W.  v.  Humboldt.  First  Period  (1800 — 
1840).  Universities  founded  or  reorganised.  The  Greek  ideal 
of  life ;  foundation  of  the  Gymnasien.  Technical  education. 
Elementary  education.  Second  Period  (1840 — 1870).  Check  to 
liberal  education  ;  advance  of  science  and  of  scientific  education. 
Third  Period  (1870 — ).  Immense  progress  at  all  points.  The 
present  position.  Local  diversities.  German  education  a  federal 
unity.  Demand  for  further  educational  facilities  for  the  workers, 
and  for  women.  Revolt  against  over-intellectualism. 

II.  England. — German  education  based  on  system,  English, 
on  compromise.  The  Civil  War  bequeathed  to  us  a  division, 
never  since  healed,  in  our  social  ideals.  All  attempts  at  a 
national  system  of  education,  before  1870,  foiled  by  the  resist¬ 
ance  of  a  powerful  minority.  Importance  of  the  influence  of 
Scotland,  Ireland  and  Wales.  The  example  of  Scotland  gradu¬ 
ally  overcame  English  hostility  to  government  intervention. 
Ireland  the  field  in  which  government  control  and  assistance 
were  first  energetically  carried  out.  Intermediate  education  in 
Wales.  Distinctive  marks  of  the  three  periods  in  England. 

III.  Contrasts  between  German  and  English  education. — Defects 
and  advantages  of  each  type. 


Summary  of  Contents 


xix 


IV.  German  influence  on  English  education — The  channels  ol 
influence :  Coleridge,  Carlyle,  Prince  Albert.  Impression  made 
by  the  War  of  1866.  Matthew  Arnold.  All  branches  of  English 
education  have  been  affected.  Froebel  and  the  Kindergarten. 
Herbart.  Modern  language  teaching:  Vietor.  Continuation 
schools:  Kerschensteiner.  Effect  of  German  theory  and  practice 
in  enlarging  the  English  recognition  of  the  scope  and  power 
of  the  State  in  education. 

V.  Summary. — The  educational  policy  of  a  nation  the  focus  of 

its  ideals.  English  and  German  education  have  pursued  opposite 
courses,  yet  are  rooted  in  closely  related  ideas  of  life  and  duty. 
The  influence  of  English  education  in  Germany.  Efforts  to 
cultivate  character,  self-government,  and  sense  of  responsibility. 
School-games.  Country  boarding  schools.  Training  in  Art. 
The  fundamental  forces  in  German  education  :  (1)  belief  in  the 
power  of  training  and  imparted  ideas  to  develop  mind  and 
character ;  (2)  demand  for  inner  freedom  won  through  discipline. 
Intercourse  between  representatives  of  the  two  types  of  educa¬ 
tion  of  great  value.  But  both  systems  are  deeply  rooted  in 
history,  and  much  that  is  finest  in  each  cannot  be  superadded  to 
the  other  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  p.  101 


VI.— THE  HISTORY  OF  THEOLOGY. 
By  Professor  A.  S.  Peake. 


Limitations  of  the  discussion.  Schleiermaclier  the  most 
influential  theologian  of  the  century.  His  personality  and  train¬ 
ing.  His  Speeches  on  Religion.  Orthodox  and  rationalist  identified 
religion  with  a  series  of  doctrines.  Schleiermaclier  found  its 
essence  in  feeling,  the  realisation  that  we  are  one  with  the 
Infinite.  His  religion  had  a  pantheistic  basis.  While  intensely 
individualist  he  emphasised  the  social  quality  of  religion. 
“  Natural  Religion  ”  repudiated.  His  system  of  theology. 
Religion  as  feeling  of  dependence.  The  Christian  consciousness 
as  the  source  of  theology.  Theology  Christo-centric.  His  treat¬ 
ment  of  Theology  as  an  organic  whole.  General  estimate  of 
Schleiermaclier.  The  breach  with  rationalism  involved  in  his 
emphasis  on  history  and  estimate  of  Jesus,  and  with  orthodoxy 


XX 


Summary  of  Contents 


involved  in  his  free  attitude  to  Scripture,  raised  the  problem  by 
what  right  Schleiermacher  accorded  Christ  a  central  place  in  his 
system.  Strauss  forced  this  into  prominence  by  his  Life  of  fesus. 
He  regarded  the  Christian  religion  as  independent  of  its  Founder. 
The  eternal  ideas  gain  by  being  disengaged  from  dubious  history. 
The  historical  Jesus  becomes  the  Christ  of  the  Gospels  by 
mythical  accretion  due  to  Messianic  dogma.  F.  C.  Baur  com¬ 
pared  with  Strauss.  Baur  said  The  Life  of  Jesus  gave  a  criticism 
of  the  Gospel  history  without  a  criticism  of  the  Gospels.  The 
growth  of  the  Tubingen  criticism.  Sketch  of  the  theory.  The 
objections  by  which  it  has  been  discredited.  Why,  nevertheless, 
Baur  has  an  epoch-making  significance.  Other  New  Testament 
scholars  of  the  century.  The  course  of  Pentateuch  criticism  and 
the  chief  contributions  to  the  generally  accepted  theory.  The 
criticism  of  other  parts  of  the  Old  Testament.  Other  leading 
Old  Testament  scholars.  Strauss  in  his  Christian  Doctrine  seeks 
to  prove  the  bankruptcy  of  Christianity.  The  successors  of 
Schleiermacher.  The  Liberal,  Confessional,  and  Mediating 
theologians.  Ritschl  and  his  theological  development.  Ritsch- 
lianism  designed  to  meet  the  widespread  lapse  from  faith. 
Judgments  of  value.  Ritschl’s  greatness  as  a  system-builder. 
Emphasises  uniqueness  of  Christianity,  and  impossibility  of 
understanding  it  except  from  the  inside.  Only  members  of 
the  Christian  community  qualified  to  estimate  the  religion. 
The  community,  which  is  to  be  distinguished  from  the  empirical 
church,  is  the  object  of  justification.  The  Gospel  the  guarantee 
of  the  Christian  consciousness.  The  Gospel  to  be  found  in  the 
New  Testament,  since  its  writers  understood  the  religion  of  the 
Old  Testament  and  were  free  from  the  influence  of  Greek 
thought  and  Jewish  Rabbinism.  The  apostolic  testimony  is 
necessary  as  well  as  the  utterances  of  the  Founder.  Yet  the 
Gospel  is  distilled  from  the  New  Testament  not  identified  with 
it.  It  thus  becomes  possible  to  use  it  as  a  test  of  traditional 
theology,  of  which  much  is  swept  aside.  Ritschl’s  definition  of 
Christianity,  Redemption  and  the  Kingdom  of  God.  Hatred 
of  Mysticism,  Pietism,  Emotionalism.  Pietism  regarded  as  an 
attenuated  form  of  Catholicism  masquerading  as  Protestantism. 
Ritschlianism  and  metaphysics.  Ritschl’ s  attitude  to  the  New 
Testament  controlled  by  presuppositions  now  largely  abandoned 
by  his  own  followers  -  -  -  -  -  -  p.  129 


Summary  of  Contents 


xxi 


VII.— THE  HISTORY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 
By  Dr.  Bernard  Bosanquet. 


Although  it  is  hopeless  in  a  single  lecture  to  give  an  idea  of 
the  detail,  it  may  be  possible  to  convey  some  impression  of  the 
main  rhythm  and  direction,  of  the  philosophical  growth  in 
question. 

One  might  suggest  the  common  triple  rhythm,  Creation,  Dis¬ 
integration,  Recovery,  or,  including  the  direction.  Metaphysic, 
Positivism,  and  Metaphysic  again ;  or  to  put  a  point  on  it : 
Hegelian,  neo-Kantian  (  =  anti  Hegelian),  neo-Hegelian.  This 
would  be  repudiated  in  Germany  to-day  ;  but  we  might  try 
"  Post-Kantian  ;  neo-Kantian;  post-neo-Kantian.” 

This  would  divide  roughly  thus  : — 

1.  Post-Kantian,  Beginnings  of  Fichte  to  recognition  of 

Schopenhauer  (say)  1794-1844; 

2.  Neo-Kantian,  Liebmann’s  "  Back  to  Kant,”  to  (say) 

Avenarius’  "Critique  of  Pure  Experience,”  1865-1888  ; 

3.  The  final  stage  of  neo-Kantianism,  and  parallel  movements, 

1888  to  the  present  day. 

Many  great  men,  just  because  above  their  time,  hardly  fit  into 
this  scheme,  e.g.,  Fechner,  Lotze,  Wundt.  Of  course.  Experi¬ 
mental  Psychology  and  Voluntarism  came  largely  from  them. 

In  speaking  of  Phase  1. 

Begin  with  a  letter  of  Hegel  in  1795,  showing  his  initial 
anticipations  in  relation  to  the  formative  influences  of  the  day  : 
Kant,  Fichte,  Schelling,  Schiller  and  Goethe.  Estimate  his 
method  and  Fichte’s,  which  has  been  much  misapprehended. 
The  essence  of  this  philosophy  is  the  forward,  adventurous  and 
realising  interpretation  of  Kant.  How  "critical.”  It  affirms 
reality  of  perfection,  identity  of  real  and  ideal,  in  sense  of 
Religion. 

Phase  2. 

The  new  situation — dates — a  reaction  to  defensive  interpreta¬ 
tion  of  Kant ;  Metaphysic  is  replaced  by  Epistemology,  which 


xxii  Summary  of  Contents 

has  vogue  till  almost  to  day — i.e.  reality  is  cut  down  to  what  is 
given  in  consciousness,  and  what  can  be  got  out  of  that. 
“  Limits  of  Knowledge”  the  problem.  Real  and  Ideal  separated. 
Lange.  Kant’s  ‘ought,’  in  contrast  to  fis,’  reinstated.  Open  future, 
with  infinite  progress  in  universe,  maintained  ;  new  ideas  which 
come  to  aid  of  this.  Point  of  view  of  morality  made  absolute  against 
that  of  religion.  Illustrated  by  Vaihinger’s  “  As  if” — doctrine 
of  fictions  and  ideal.  “  Critical  ”  Philosophies  in  sense  of  anti¬ 
metaphysical.  “  Positivism,”  &c. 

Phase  S. 

Experience  treated  more  systematically.  Avenarius’  C( full 
experience.”  More  talk  of  at  least  preparing  for  a  metaphysic. 
Distinction  between  in  consciousness  and  for  consciousness. 
Idealism  and  realism  both  more  solid.  Natorp,  Cassirer,  Husserl, 
Kiilpe,  Driesch,  Nelson.  A  reasonable  aphorism.  Hopes  for 
metaphysic  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  p.  185 


VIII.— THE  HISTORY  OF  MUSIC. 
By  F.  Bonavia. 


(a)  The  Symphony.  German  music  at  the  close  of  the  eigh¬ 
teenth  century.  Conventionality  in  the  theme  of  opera. 
Neglect  of  polyphony.  Bad  influence  of  court  patronage.  Vienna 
the  centre  of  European  music.  The  lines  of  musical  advance. 
Beethoven  and  Wagner  the  two  most  important  figures  of  the 
century.  Beethoven’s  predecessors  not  essentially  national. 
German  and  Austrian.  Mozart  and  the  end  of  patronage.  Beet¬ 
hoven  in  Vienna.  The  main  qualities  of  Beethoven’s  symphonies. 
First  hints  of  the  new  style.  The  Eroica  Symphony.  Dissonance 
and  rhythm  used  as  means  to  dramatic  effect.  The  C  Minor 
Symphony,  first  musical  composition  indissolubly  connected  with 
spirit  of  the  time.  Pastoral  symphonies  and  the  beginning  of  the 
feeling  for  Nature.  The  result  of  the  nine  symphonies  in  Germany, 
France  and  Italy.  Schubert.  Growth  of  romantic  feeling  with 
Mendelssohn  and  Schumann.  Foundations  of  musical  criticism. 
“  Neue  Zeitschrift  fiir  Musik.”  Brahms  the  last  of  great  com¬ 
posers  of  symphonies. 


Summary  of  Contents  xxiii 

(p)  The  Opera.  Rivalry  between  Italian  and  German  schools  is 
also  the  rivalry  between  an  essentially  melodic  and  a  polyphonic 
style.  Vocalists,  their  influence  on  composers.  Weber’s  victory  over 
Spontini.  Fidelio.  Oberon  and  Euryanthe.  Wagner’s  themes. 
Simplicity  of  the  story  essential  to  Wagnerian  opera.  The  use  of 
the  leit-motif.  Relation  of  words  to  music.  The  poetic  genius 
of  Wagner.  Ideal  of  self-sacrifice  and  ideal  of  the  Ueber- 
mensch  !  ”  Parsifal  as  the  typical  Wagnerian  hero.  Novalis 
and  Overbeck — like  Wagner,  drew  inspiration  from  religious 
themes.  More  comprehensive  feeling  for  Nature.  Critical 
writings.  Liszt  and  the  symphonic  poem.  Certain  limitations 
of  Liszt’s  music.  Historians  and  teachers  in  Germany.  Their 
influence  abroad.  Excellence  of  German  organisation.  Close  of 
the  century  and  the  future  outlook  -  -  -  -  p.  217 


I.— THE  POLITICAL  HISTORY 


BY 

J.  HOLLAND  ROSE,  Litt.D. 


Note  added  to  the  Third  Edition. 

Dr.  Rose  wishes  to  make  it  clear  that  the  views  stated 
in  this  lecture  have  necessarily  been  profoundly  modified 
by  later  events,  which  render  it  impossible  to  take  the 
same  favourable  view  of  German  policy,  that  seemed  fully 
tenable  early  in  the  year  1911.  The  later  evidence  is  set 
forth  in  Dr.  Rose’s  lecture  delivered  at  Cambridge  in  the 
Michaelmas  Term,  1914,  about  to  be  published  under  the 
title  “  The  Origins  of  the  Present  War.” 


THE  POLITICAL  HISTORY. 


Some  peoples  easily  win  their  way  to  political  unity; 
others  attain  it  only  by  long  and  desperate  efforts ;  while 
in  some  cases  that  boon  is  forced  upon  cognate  tribes  by 
pressure  from  without.  In  very  few  cases  has  the 
unifying  process  been  rapid  and  easy.  Perhaps  the 
consolidation  of  the  Italian  tribes  by  ancient  Rome  is 
an  example  of  comparatively  speedy  union ;  that  of  the 
people  inhabiting  the  British  Isles  took  a  longer  time 
and  came  about  more  doubtfully.  But  Ancient  Italy  and 
Great  Britain  forged  ahead  more  quickly  than  the  Teutons 
of  Central  Europe. 

The  reasons  are  not  far  to  seek.  The  strong  indivi¬ 
dualism  of  the  Teutonic  nature  ever  made  for  division ; 
and  the  centrifugal  tendency  was  strengthened  by  the 
struggles  between  Pope  and  Emperor  in  the  Middle  Ages. 
Further,  this  disastrous  dualism  was  to  be  reduplicated 
in  the  spheres  of  law  and  religion  :  in  lawq  by  the  feudal 
custom  which  enjoined  the  division  of  fiefs  equally  among 
the  sons  of  a  baron :  in  religion,  by  the  Reformation, 
which  sundered  Germans  more  profoundly  and  more 
equally  than  any  other  people.  Then,  in  the  Eighteenth 
Century,  began  the  long  feud  between  the  Houses  of 
Hapsburg  and  Hohenzollern,  that  is,  in  the  main  between 
the  Southern  and  Catholic  domains  against  the  smaller 
but  more  compact  and  better  organized  Protestant  States 
of  the  North.  For  ages  these  divulsive  forces  worked 
havoc  with  Germany,  sundering  the  allegiance  of  her 
people,  sifting  her  States  into  feudal  dust ;  making  her 
one  vast  cockpit  for  the  bloodiest  of  the  Religious  Wars; 
and  finally  arraying  against  each  other  the  greatest  of 
her  component  monarchies.  What  wonder  that  such  a 


4  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


land,  lacking  all  natural  frontiers,  and  beset  by  jarring 
interests,  was  the  prey  of  smaller  but  better  organized 
peoples  on  lier  frontiers?  Union  seemed  a  mere  dream. 
And  when  in  1792  Austria  and  Prussia  joined  hands  to 
overthrow  Revolutionary  France,  their  efforts,  palsied  by 
distrust,  served  merely  to  goad  France  to  those  astonishing 
efforts  which  made  her  the  arbitress  of  the  continent. 

The  French  then  had  everything  which  the  Germans 
lacked  :  a  compact  territory,  a  single  national  organiza¬ 
tion,  an  inspiring  tradition,  and  the  thrilling  summons 
of  democracy  calling  them  to  overthrow  the  despotism 
around  them.  Germans  heard  that  summons,  sympathized 
with  it,  and  made  but  a  half-hearted  resistance  to  the 
liberators.  Had  France  and  Napoleon  realized  that  the 
strength  of  the  French  lay  in  their  mission  to  renovate 
Central  Europe,  their  supremacy  might  have  been  lasting. 
At  first  they  had  the  support  of  Prussia;  and  in  that 
important  hut  shabby  transaction  of  the  year  180T,  the 
secularization  of  the  ecclesiastical  states,  the  House  of 
Hohenzollern  gained  the  lion’s  share ;  or,  in  that  case 
it  would  be  more  correct  to  say  the  jackal’s  share;  for  in 
reality  it  was  Napoleon  who  did  the  slaying  while  Prussia 
gorged  on  the  bishoprics  and  abbacies  which  he  threw'  to 
her. 

Thus  the  Nineteenth  Century  opened  with  scenes  which 
even  now  bring  a  blush  to  the  cheek  of  every  patriotic 
Teuton.  The  two  chief  German  states  were  engaged  in  a 
game  of  grab  at  the  expense  of  the  Church  domains,  which 
were  allotted  mainly  by  the  secret  influence  of  Bonaparte 
and  Talleyrand.  Russia  for  the  time  was  quiescent. 
The  sole  regulating  impulse  was  that  which  came  forth 
from  the  West.  And  when,  a  year  later,  Napoleon  took 
the  title  “Emperor  of  the  French,”  Francis  II  of  Austria 
was  fain  to  copy  him  and  to  proclaim  himself  “  Hereditary 
Emperor  of  Austria.”  The  words  were  a  singular  perver¬ 
sion  of  the  simple  and  august  title  “  the  Emperor,”  i.e., 
elective  head  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire;  and  Professor 


The  Political  History  5 

Freeman  often  upbraided  Francis  for  forgetting  who  he 
was.*  Nevertheless,  pace  Professor  Freeman,  something 
may  be  said  for  the  act  of  Francis.  By  that  time  the 
Holy  Homan  Empire  fully  deserved  the  gibe  of  Yoltaire, 
that  it  was  neither  Holy,  nor  Itoman,  nor  an  Empire. 
One  thousand  and  four  years  had  passed  since  the  crown¬ 
ing  of  the  first  Emperor,  Charlemagne,  by  Leo  III  at 
Home;  and  the  link  with  the  Eternal  City  had  long  been 
broken.  Further,  Francis  II,  now  sated  with  the  plunder 
of  the  Church,  had  no  special  claim  to  holiness.  And 
could  that  be  called  an  Empire  which  everyone,  including 
its  chief,  plundered,  and  no  one  obeyed?  Surely  it  was 
well  for  Francis  to  exchange  that  moth-eaten  robe  of 
purple  for  a  suit  of  armour;  and  such  a  panoply  he 
believed  he  had  found  in  the  hereditary  States  of  his 
House  which  he  intended  now  to  solidify  and  enrich. 
Had  he  been  an  able  and  determined  ruler,  he  could  have 
taken  the  lead  in  reorganizing  Germany  on  a  new  basis. 

Germans  wanted  a  leader  and  looked  about  in  vain  to 
find  one.  For  a  time  Napoleon  played  the  part  of  the 
new  Charlemagne  and  seemed  about  to  call  that  people  to 
a  life  of  political  activity.  Goethe,  as  we  know,  hoped 
for  a  time  that  the  French  Emperor  would  give  that  lead, 
and  would  merge  all  the  States  of  Central  and  Western 
Europe  in  a  beneficent  unity.  Possibly  the  contrast 
between  the  first  and  second  parts  of  Faust  may  have 
derived  added  emphasis  from  his  hopes  in  the  ruler  who 
seemed  destined  to  lead  that  long  distracted  and  mesmer¬ 
ized  people  to  the  beneficent  conquests  of  Knowledge  and 
Science.  But  it  was  not  to  be.  Napoleon  did  much  for 
the  states  of  the  Confederation  of  the  Hhine  which  he 
founded  on  the  ruins  of  the  Holy  Homan  Empire  in  the 
year  1806 ;  and  for  a  time  the  middle  and  South  Germans 
looked  to  Paris  rather  than  Vienna  or  Berlin  as  their 
capital.  But  that  interesting  experiment  of  gallicizing, 

*  E.g.,  “General  Historical  Sketch,”  p.  333;  and  p.  xiv  of  Preface  to 
Leger’s  “Hist,  of  Austro- Hungary ”  (Eng.  transl.). 


6 


Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


or  denationalizing,  those  peoples  failed  when  his  policy 
became  more  and  more  warlike,  especially  when  the 
burdens  entailed  by  his  Continental  System  ruined 
German  commerce  and  emptied  every  larder.*  It  is 
questionable  whether  any  great  people  could  have  been 
denationalized  in  the  Nineteenth  Century,  when  the 
instinct  of  race  every  year  became  more  potent.  Certainly 
it  was  in  vain  for  Napoleon  to  found  a  great  international 
State,  extending  from  the  Elbe  to  the  Ebro,  rivalling 
the  Empire  of  Charlemagne  both  in  extent  and  in  the 
diversity  of  its  peoples,  unless  he  could  still  that  instinct 
by  the  magic  of  peace,  prosperity  and  good  government. 
Good  laws  he  gave  them;  but  peace  and  prosperity  con¬ 
sorted  not  with  him.t  In  his  train  there  stalked  war  and 
want.  Nearly  150,000  Germans  were  haled  away  from 
their  homes  to  fight  for  him  in  Russia  in  1812  for  a  cause 
which  they  could  not  understand;  and  as  for  the  idealists, 
who  in  their  studies  blessed  his  enlightened  sway,  their 
panegyrics  grew  cold  when  coffee  and  tobacco  were  merely 
fumes  of  fond  recollection.  In  such  a  case,  even  Teufels- 
drockh  is  wont  to  cease  his  musings  on  the  Everlasting 
No  and  become  a  domestic  economist;  and  when  he  traces 
the  absence  of  the  berries  of  Mocha  to  the  economic 
methods  of  the  new  Charlemagne,  ill  will  it  betide  that 
ruler.  Cosmopolitanism  is  a  grand  ideal;  but  it  must  be 
brought  about  by  means  other  than  those  used  by 
Napoleon  in  the  years  1807 — 1812.  Napoleon  the  fiscal 
experimenter  ruined  Napoleon  the  new  Charlemagne. 

The  German  people  therefore  turned  its  gaze  away  from 
Paris  and  more  and  more  towards  Vienna  or  Berlin.  In 
1809  the  House  of  Hapsburg  made  a  bold  bid  for 
supremacy  in  Germany  but  failed;  and  Francis  thence¬ 
forth  went  back  to  the  reactionary  policy  and  trimming 
devices  natural  to  his  narrow  and  timid  character.  He 

*  See  my  chapter  “  The  Continental  System,”  in  “  Camb.  Mod. 
History,”  vol.  ix. 

t  See  H.  A.  L.  Fisher,  “  Napoleonic  Statesmanship  :  Germany,” 
ch.  13,  17. 


The  Political  History 


7 


shelved  the  reformer  Stadion,  took  Metternich  into  favour, 
and  sacrificed  his  daughter,  Marie  Louise,  on  the  marriage 
altar  to  Napoleon.  Thenceforth  the  future  of  Germany 
was  bound  up  with  the  fortunes  of  the  House  of  Hohen- 
zollern.  As  we  saw,  the  policy  of  that  House  had  been 
spiritless  in  the  extreme;  but,  seeing  the  error  of  its  ways, 
it  tried  a  fall  with  Napoleon  in  the  campaign  of  Jena  with 
results  that  are  well  known.  The  symbol  of  the  Hohen- 
zollerns  should  be  the  phoenix;  for  in  the  death  agonies 
that  followed,  they  found  new  life.  Frederick  William 
III  of  Prussia  was  the  most  uninspiring  of  monarchs,  but 
he  had  a  beautiful  and  spirited  consort  (Queen  Louisa), 
whose  bearing  in  the  dark  years  1807 — 10,  when  she  sank 
to  rest,  left  an  ineffaceable  impression  on  her  people. 
Then,  too,  the  grand  traditions  of  the  days  of  Frederick 
the  Great  had  brought  the  Prussian  service  the  ablest 
of  German  administrators;  the  Fhinelander,  Stein,  the 
Hanoverian,  Scharnhorst,  and  several  others  who  were  not 
Prussians  by  birth,  now  came  to  reconstruct  that  State  on 
broader  and  more  truly  national  foundations.  It  was  due 
especially  to  the  initiative  and  hardihood  of  Stein  that 
reforms  of  far-reaching  importance  now  took  effect. 
Serfdom  was  abolished  in  Prussia,  municipal  self-govern¬ 
ment  was  established ;  restrictions  on  the  sale  and  the 
tenure  of  land  on  a  curious  class-basis — all  were  swept 
away :  a  national  military  system  took  the  place  of  the 
lack  of  system  of  the  older  period;  and  education  received 
a  great  impulse  both  in  the  University  and  the  elementary 
schools  .* 

This  is  a  lifeless  enumeration  of  changes  which  altered 
the  whole  life  of  the  Prussian  people.  Consider  what 
they  implied.  In  the  years  1807-13  the  serf's  of  Prussia 
became  freeholders  on  the  land  and  self-governing 
citizens.  They  gained  a  new  outlook  on  life.  What  had 
before  been  a  narrow  and  almost  hopeless  existence  now 
became  an  exhilarating  struggle,  almost  a  career.  The 


*  See  Lecture  V  on  this  subject. 


8  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


results  were  seen  at  the  end  of  the  year  1812.  When  the 
ghastly  relics  of  Napoleon’s  Grand  Army  re-crossed  the 
Niemen  and  Vistula,  the  Prussian  people  called  aloud  to 
he  led  against  Napoleon ;  and  despite  the  freezing  caution 
of  their  King,  they  had  their  way.  Professors  and 
students  added  dignity  and  ardour  to  the  national  move¬ 
ment;  and  a  people  which  numbered  4^  millions  rushed 
to  arms  against  an  Empire  which  numbered  some  60 
millions.  Probably  the  efforts  of  Russia  and  Prussia 
would  not  have  sufficed  to  liberate  Central  Europe  from 
Napoleon’s  sway;  but  Austria,  after  long  balancing,  threw* 
in  her  lot  with  the  national  cause;  and  at  Leipzig  the 
new  Charlemagne  was  decisively  overthrown.  The  cam¬ 
paign  of  1814  in  Eastern  France  completed  his  ruin ;  and 
Prussian  patriots  hoped  that  what  the  peoples  of  the 
Continent  had  achieved  would  redound  to  their  political 
emancipation. 

They  were  grievously  disappointed.  As  I  just  now 
hinted,  the  siding  of  Austria  with  Russia  and  Prussia  was 
the  decisive  event  of  the  campaign  of  1813;  and  the 
Court  of  Vienna  contrived  to  secure  a  rich  harvest  in  the 
field  of  diplomacy.  In  the  closing  months  of  1813  it 
made  treaties  with  Bavaria  and  other  States  with  a  view 
to  the  restoration  of  the  old  order  of  things,  or  at  least, 
of  its  equivalent.  Of  course  it  was  impossible  to  restore 
the  old  Holy  Roman  Empire,  or  the  petty  States,  lay  or 
ecclesiastical,  which  perished  at  the  Secularizations.  The 
grinding  process  which  Napoleon  and  the  German  sove¬ 
reigns  found  so  profitable,  had  made  a  new  Germany  of 
moderate  sized  States.  The  result  may  be  realized  from 
the  statement  that  whereas  old  Germany  comprised  more 
than  200  States,  now,  after  the  reconstruction  of  the 
years  1814-15,  there  were  but  39.  All  the  Ecclesiastical 
States  had  gone  :  the  Imperial  Knights  had  vanished.  Of 
the  Free  Cities  only  four  survived,  Hamburg,  Bremen, 
Liibeck  and  Frankfurt.  But  though  the  historical  student 
welcomes  the  work  of  clearance  and  simplification,  it 


The  Political  History 


9 


did  not  altogether  simplify  the  political  problem,  the 
unification  of  Germany.  It  is  easier  to  swallow  at  your 
leisure  a  bishop,  an  abbess,  a  Free  City  and  three  or  four 
petty  Knights,  than  to  gulp  down  a  State  which  has 
already  made  a  meal  of  them.  The  problem  resembles 
that  of  the  raptores,  who  make  short  work  of  moths  and 
small  birds,  but  find  it  no  easy  matter  to  dispose  of  a 
carrion  crow.  Thus,  the  missing  of  the  opportunity  in 
1814-15  was  the  greatest  possible  misfortune  for  the  cause 
of  German  unity. 

Moreover,  the  constitution  of  the  new  German  Con¬ 
federation  (1815—1866)  had  many  of  the  defects  of  the 
old  Holy  Homan  Empire  and  far  more  than  its  strength 
and  vitality.  The  worst  defect,  that  of  the  dualism  of 
German  interests,  was  perpetuated  in  a  worse  form  than 
ever.  Austria  was  the  predominant  Power  in  the  new 
Confederation;  and  yet  her  gains  of  Italian  territory  made 
her  less  of  a  Germanic  State  than  formerly.  Prussia  had 
to  take  a  secondary  place ;  yet  she  had  gained  largely, 
not  only  in  Posen,  but  also  in  Westphalia  and  the  Rhine 
Province:  so  that  now  her  territories  stretched  (albeit 
with  annoying  gaps  at  Hesse-Cassel  and  Brunswick)  from 
the  Russian  kingdom  of  Poland  to  the  frontier  of  France. 
She  became  the  natural  champion  of  Central  Europe 
against  France  and  Russia.  But,  all  the  same,  she 
occupied  a  second  place  in  the  Diet  and  the  Committees 
of  the  German  Confederation ;  while  polyglot  Austria 
sought  to  keep  the  first  place  which  the  skilful  diplomacy 
of  Metternich  had  won  for  her.  Thus  the  peace  of  1814—15 
was,  for  Germany,  no  peace.  She  was  saddled  with  a 
Constitution  which  curbed  the  aspirations  of  her  people 
for  liberty  and  unity ;  and  she  was  still  a  prey  to  the  old 
feud  between  Ilapsburg  and  Hohenzollern,  South  and 
North.  Had  not  Frederick  William  III  and  the  statesmen 
of  Berlin  been  incurable  pedants,  they  would  have  over¬ 
thrown  this  unfair  settlement.  As  it  was,  they  accepted 
it  grudgingly,  and  even  made  common  cause  with 


10  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

Metternioli  in  crushing  the  popular  risings  of  1821  and 
1830.  It  is  not  surprising  that  the  University  students, 
who  on  the  Continent  were  always  in  the  vanguard  of 
the  Reform  Movement,  burnt  in  their  demonstrations 
Prussian  military  pigtails  and  Prussian  military  stays  as 
symbols  of  the  soulless  despotism  which  then  cramped  the 
life  of  Germany. 

We  need  not  dwell  on  that  dreary  time  of  reaction, 
1815 — 1848,  save  to  remark  two  noteworthy  changes.  In 
the  thirties  was  formed  the  famous  Zollverein,  or  Customs’ 
Union.  Originating  in  two  separate  Unions  (Prussia  and 
Hesse  Darmstadt,  and  Bavaria  and  Wiirtemberg),  it 
attained  almost  national  importance  by  the  merging  of 
these  two  systems  in  the  year  1833.  Not  long  afterwards 
most  of  the  other  German  States  joined  this  Customs' 
Union;  and  in  1851,  when  Hanover  gave  in  its  adhesion, 
the  German  fiscal  system  was  almost  complete.  Why  the 
Austrian  Empire  did  not  oppose  this  commercial  union  of 
the  smaller  German  States  with  Prussia  is  hard  to  say. 
Certainly  it  was  one  of  the  many  blunders  that  have 
marked  Austrian  policy ;  for  even  then  it  became  probable 
that  political  union  would  follow  the  trend  of  fiscal  union. 

The  other  event  concerns  England  and  Germany  alike. 
In  1837  the  accession  of  Queen  Victoria  necessitated  the 
severance  of  Hanover  from  the  British  connexion;  for 
there  the  Salic  law  held  sway  :  thanks  to  that  relic  of  a 
barbarous  past  the  link  that  bound  England  and  Hanover 
in  a  most  cramped  three-legged  race  was  severed.  How 
much  British  policy  had  suffered  from  the  drag  of 
Hanover  is  known  to  all  students  of  our  history;  and 
people  who  knew  no  history  were  devoutly  thankful  when 
these  islands  gained  Queen  Victoria  and  the  Duke  of 
Cumberland  went  to  Hanover.  The  gravitation  of  that 
petty  Kingdom  towards  the  Prussian  or  German  Zoll¬ 
verein  marked  out  the  course  of  political  events,  which 
came  about  in  1866. 

It  is  impossible  here  to  attempt  to  unravel  the  appalling 


The  Political  History- 


11 


tangles  of  the  democratic  and  national  movements  in 
Germany  in  the  years  1848,  1849.  Suffice  it  to  say  that 
all  the  efforts  of  German  democrats  to  gain  liberty  and 
unity  utterly  collapsed.  Certain  sons  of  Belial  declare 
that  the  failure  was  due  entirely  to  the  fact  that  the 
Vorparlament  at  Frankfurt  was  led  by  professors  and 
barristers ;  hut  that  is  an  argument  which  I  do  not  wish 
to  discuss  in  this  place.  Others,  let  us  hope  more  reason¬ 
ably,  point  to  the  fact  that  the  ruler  to  whom  the  deputies 
offered  the  crown  of  the  German  Empire  of  their  dreams, 
was  Frederick  William  IV  of  Prussia,  in  the  main  a 
dreamer  and  rhetorician,  who  for  once  showed  some  sense 
of  prudence  by  declining  the  bauble.  What  is  certain  is 
that  the  German  democrats  themselves,  and  Prussia  as 
well,  were  far  too  weak  to  brave  the  wrath  of  Austria.  For 
a  time  she  was  helpless  with  her  troublesome  Yiennese, 
Bohemian,  Hungarian,  and  Italian  subjects;  but,  thanks 
to  the  help  of  Pussia,  she  restored  order  in  her  own  house, 
and  then  resolved  to  set  things  to  rights  in  her  Germanic 
preserves.  Finally,  Prussia  and  the  democrats  had  to 
bow  the  knee  to  her  and  accept  her  ruling  on  all  the 
questions  in  dispute.  Well  was  it  for  Prussia  that  she 
did  so  in  the  Convention  of  Olmtitz  (Nov.  29,  1850). 
Otherwise  Austria  and  Pussia  would  have  pushed  her  to 
the  wall  and  indefinitely  postponed  national  union.* 

Thus,  after  all  the  futile  strivings  of  1848 — 9,  Austria 
rounds  off  the  Germans  to  their  several  folds  and  resumes 
the  role  of  guardian  for  order.  So  far  off  was  German 
unity  that  the  German  federal  fleet  was  sold  by  auction,! 
as  if  those  warships  were  so  many  London  County  Council 
steamboats.  Patriots  gnashed  their  teeth  when  they  saw 
Austria  favouring  the  cause  of  the  Danes  in  the  Elbe 
Duchies  and  handing  over  the  Germans  of  that  border¬ 
land  to  what  was  (in  Schleswig  at  least)  a  state  almost 
of  servitude  to  the  Danes. 

*  “  Camb.  Mod.  Hist.,”  xi,  231,  393;  “Mems.  of  Count  Beust,”  ch.  9. 

t  C.  Lowe,  “Bismarck,”  i,  186. 


12  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


But  the  great  lesson  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  is  that 
all  such  reactions  and  humiliations,  are  temporary,  and 
finally  redound  to  the  harm  of  those  who  inflict  them. 
Sooner  or  later  the  aggrieved  race  produces  a  leader,  who, 
if  the  omens  are  favourable,  helps  it  to  burst  its  bonds  and 
retaliate  on  the  would-be  warder.  Such  was  the  role  of 
Bismarck  in  Germany  and  Cavour  in  Italy.  Their  careers 
run  a  curiously  parallel  course  :  at  certain  points  their 
methods  are  similar.  They  eschew  revolutionary  plans 
and  make  use  of  old  dynasties  and  well  drilled  armies ; 
they  seek  to  unite  their  peoples  to  the  old  monarchies; 
they  make  unscrupulous  use  of  diplomacy;  and  both  of 
them  seek  the  friendship  of  Napoleon  III  in  order  to 
compass  the  overthrow  of  the  national  foe,  Austria. 
Strange  to  say,  they  succeed;  for  Napoleon  III,  unlike 
his  uncle,  is  at  times  a  dreamer,  obsessed  by  Quixotic 
visions ;  and  he  foresees  good  to  mankind  and  glory  and 
gain  to  himself  from  the  liberation  of  oppressed  peoples, 
among  them  being  the  Italians  and  the  North  Germans. 
Thus,  Austria  is  the  foe  against  whom  this  Imperial 
knight-errant  longs  to  tilt.  With  a  little  guile  on  the 
part  of  Cavour  and  Bismarck  the  quest  is  started;  for 
Austria  has  latterly  been  too  successful,  and  all  Europe 
longs  to  see  her  horn  depressed.  The  result  is  her  over¬ 
throw,  first  in  Italy  in  1859,  and  in  Germany  in  the 
Bohemian  campaign  of  1866.  This  last  alone  concerns  us 
here ;  but  we  must  remember  that  even  the  diplomacy  of 
Bismarck,  the  splendid  organization  of  the  Prussian  army 
by  Boon,  and  the  masterly  strategy  of  Moltke  would 
assuredly  have  failed,  had  not  Denmark  and  Austria 
successively  put  themselves  in  the  wrong  in  their  treat¬ 
ment  of  Germany  and  Prussia  at  that  time. 

The  English  public  thought  differently ;  but  the  English 
public  was  misinformed  by  its  newspapers,  and  in  a  fit  of 
sentiment  believed  that  because  little  Denmark  had  a 
quarrel  with  two  great  German  States,  she  must  be  in  the 
right  and  they  in  the  wrong; — an  assumption  quite  as 


The  Political  History 


13 


disputable  as  that  in  a  street  quarrel  the  little  boy  must 
be  the  champion  of  justice  and  the  big  boy  be  merely 
a  bully.  The  fact  is  that  little  States,  like  little  boys, 
sometimes  rely  on  their  littleness  to  move  some  ill- 
informed  and  sentimental  bystander  to  side  with  them. 
In  this  particular  instance  Denmark  did  not  gain  the 
support  from  England  which  she  expected ;  but  it  is  fairly 
certain  that  that  help  would  have  been  forthcoming  had 
not  Queen  Victoria  objected  to  the  pro-Danish  proposals 
of  Palmerston.*  So  that  miserable  dispute  ran  its 
deplorable  course,  the  result  being  ruin  for  Denmark, 
discredit  to  Great  Britain,  temporary  gain  both  to  Austria 
and  Prussia,  and  a  good  cause  of  dispute  for  Prussia 
against  Austria  in  the  near  future. 

Two  years  later,  in  1866,  the  dispute  respecting  the 
ownership  of  Schleswig  and  Holstein  came  to  a  head ; 
but  in  reality  the  question  at  issue  was — which  of  the 
rival  Powers  should  be  supreme  in  Germany.  Again  the 
omens  favoured  Prussia.  Or  rather,  we  ought  to  say  that 
Bismarck  had  carefully  prepared  his  ground.  He  had  the 
friendship  of  Russia  (which  still  resented  Austria’s  ingra¬ 
titude  after  1849) ;  and  he  believed  that  he  had  the 
friendship  of  Napoleon  III,  on  behalf  of  Italy,  now  allied 
to  Prussia.  In  point  of  fact  the  French  Emperor  had 
“  hedged  ”  so  as  to  come  off  well  in  the  event  of  an 
Austrian  triumph. 

But  Austria  did  not  triumph.  The  Prussian  armies, 
superbly  handled  in  the  Bohemian  campaign,  won  not 
only  the  battle  of  Koniggratx  but  the  campaign  by  the 
staggering  blow  dealt  to  their  rival  on  July  3,  1866.  Now 
it  was  too  late  for  Napoleon  III,  or  rather  his  ministers, 
to  interfere  in  a  way  ostensibly  friendly  to  Prussia’s  ally, 
Italy,  but  in  reality  highly  threatening  to  Prussia.  The 
threat  of  intervention  was  nevertheless  made  by  France  in 
the  clumsiest  manner  conceivable.  Its  only  result  was  to 

*  Sir  Spencer  Walpole,  “Life  of  Lord  J.  Russell,”  ii,  406;  “  Camb. 
Mod.  Hist.,”  xi,  338;  Sybel,  “Deutsche  Reich,”  iii,  87 — 165. 


14  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


bind  to  the  cause  of  Prussia  the  South  and  Central 
German  States  with  which  she  had  been  at  war.  At  the 
prospect  of  French  aggressions  on  Bavaria  and  Hesse 
Darmstadt  the  Court  of  Munich  came  to  a  secret  under¬ 
standing  with  the  Court  of  Berlin.  The  fratricidal  strifes 
of  Germans  were  in  fact  not  only  ended  by  the  French 
menace,  but  there  was  laid  the  basis  of  that  compact  of 
North  and  South  Germans  which  helped  on  the  wider 
union  of  the  year  1871. 

That  union,  as  we  know,  came  about  through  the  threat¬ 
ening  attitude  of  the  French  Emperor,  and  still  more  of 
his  Empress  and  his  Ministers,  during  the  diplomatic 
quarrel  of  July,  1870.  The  general  details  of  that  dispute 
are  well  known.  What  is  far  less  known  is  a  factor  vital 
to  the  wdiole  discussion,  namely,  that  by  order  of  the  French 
Emperor,  a  French  general,  Lebrun,  had  in  the  month  of 
June,  1870,  gone  to  Vienna  to  discuss  plans  for  a  Franco- 
Austrian  alliance  with  a  view  to  a  joint  attack  upon  the 
North  German  Confederation  in  the  spring  of  the  next 
year.  It  is  probable  (though  decisive  proofs  on  the 
question  are  wanting)  that  Prussian  statesmen  became 
aware  of  some  such  plan.*  The  secret  may  have  been 
divulged  by  some  Hungarian  or  Slav  in  the  Austrian  war 
office.  Or  again  the  proposals  of  Napoleon  to  Victor 
Emmanuel  to  bring  Italy  into  line  with  Austria  and 
France  may  have  alarmed  some  friend  of  Prussia  at  the 
Italian  capital,  Florence  ;  and  the  secret  may  have  leaked 
out  thence  to  Berlin. t  In  any  case  Bismarck  determined 
to  precipitate  a  conflict  with  France  which  was  certain  to 
come.  The  Napoleonic  dynasty  was  in  too  precarious  a 
condition  to  adopt  a  cool  and  dignified  attitude;  and  its 
champions,  both  lay  and  clerical,  military  and  journal¬ 
istic,  thought  well  to  play  a  game  of  bluff  as  a  means  of 
strengthening  the  dynasty.  The  “Mamelukes”  at  the 

*J.  H.  Rose,  “Development  of  the  European  Nations,”  pp.  33-5. 

t  Dr.  Roloff  and  M.  Albert  Thomas,  in  “  Camb.  Mod.  Hist.,”  xi, 
462,  493,  do  not  give  any  details. 


The  Political  History 


15 


French  Court,  encouraged  by  the  Empress  Eugenie,  the 
IJltramontanes  in  the  (Ecumenical  Council  then  being 
held  at  Rome,  and  Chauvinists  of  all  creeds  and  stations, 
clamoured  for  a  spirited  policy,  and  thus  played  into  the 
hands  of  the  cool  silent  man  at  Berlin  who  saw  that  war, 
immediate  war,  alone  could  save  Prussia  and  the  North 
German  Confederation  from  an  attack  in  the  near  future 
by  France  and  Austria,  perhaps  from  Italy  as  well. 

Prussia,  under  any  other  sovereign  than  William  I, 
under  any  other  Chancellor  than  Bismarck,  would  have 
hesitated  and  have  met  the  doom  of  those  who  hesitate. 
But  now  the  dictates  of  diplomacy  and  the  instincts  of 
the  whole  people  bade  her  strike  while  she  had  the  national 
sense  strong  on  her  side,  while  Russia  was  distinctly 
friendly,  and  while  Austria  and  Italy  hesitated,  or,  at 
least,  were  not  ready  to  take  up  arms  for  France.  It  was 
the  unique  opportunity  in  the  recent  history  of  Modern 
Germany.  If  it  had  been  lost,  France  would  have  seized 
the  Rhine  Frontier,  Austria  would  have  dissolved  the 
North  German  Confederation,  and,  besides  annexing  part 
or  the  whole  of  Silesia,  would  have  imposed  on  Central 
Europe  the  old  deadening  order  of  things.  Prussia,  the 
one  possible  organizer  of  German  life,  would  have  sunk 
into  comparative  insignificance;  and  the  general  result 
must  have  been  the  weakening  of  the  central  part  of 
Europe,  the  weakness  of  which  in  former  ages  wras  a 
perpetual  cause  of  unrest  and  war.  Whatever  we  may 
think  of  the  diplomatic  finesse  of  Bismarck  in  helping  to 
bring  about  the  war  of  1870  (and  on  diplomatic  grounds 
much  more  can  be  said  for  him  than  is  generally  known) 
we  ought  to  accept  with  satisfaction  the  results  of  that 
war,  so  far  as  concerns  Germany.  We  may  desire — we 
must  desire — that  the  union  of  that  long  divided  people 
had  come  about  by  less  forceful  means  :  that  the  ballot- 
box,  not  the  sword,  had  been  the  agent  of  unification ;  but 
that  was  not  to  be.  The  experiment  was  tried  in  1848-9 
and  failed,  mainly  because  the  enemies  of  Germany  were 


16  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


too  strong.  There  was  truth  in  those  terrible  words  of 
Bismarck:  “  It  is  not  by  speechifying  and  majorities  that 
the  great  questions  of  the  time  will  have  to  be  decided — 
that  was  the  mistake  in  1848  and  1849 — but  by  blood  and 
iron.”  The  words  are  generally  quoted  without  the 
parenthesis  which  gives  significance  to  them  :  and  Bis¬ 
marck  is  termed  “  the  man  of  blood  and  iron.”  Well !  he 
was  so;  but  only  because,  after  the  sad  experiences  of 
1848-9,  there  was  no  other  alternative,  at  least  none  that 
a  practical  statesman  could  wait  for.  In  view  of  a 
probable  attack  by  three  States  in  1871,  lie  determined 
to  deal  the  blow  at  the  most  aggressive  of  them  in  1870; 
and  on  the  lower  plane  of  expediency,  on  which  statesmen 
must  act,  his  act  is  thoroughly  defensible.  We  who  live 
behind  the  rampart  of  the  sea  know  little  (save  in  times 
of  panic)  of  the  fear  that  besets  a  State  which  has  no 
natural  frontiers  and  which  then  had  to  reckon  with  three 
great  military  empires  on  its  borders. 

We  must  therefore  not  be  too  hard  on  the  statesmen  of 
the  German  Empire  which  was  proclaimed  at  Versailles 
on  January  18,  1871,  for  seeking  to  guard  their  western 
territory  by  annexing  the  old  German  lands,  Elsass- 
Lothringen,  the  latter  comprising  only  about  a  quarter 
of  the  province  of  Lorraine.  True,  this  annexation  out¬ 
raged  the  sentiment  of  the  inhabitants  of  those  districts, 
who  had  become  thoroughly  French  at  heart  at  the  time  of 
the  great  Revolution  and  have  remained  so  despite  all  the 
masterful  but  far  from  attractive  energy  of  their  new 
masters.  But  those  masters,  after  all,  were  bent  on  build¬ 
ing  a  barrier  against  French  aggressions ;  and  one  must 
admit  that  the  experience  of  the  past,  especially  of  the 
time  of  Napoleon  the  Great,  bade  them  beware  of  France 
above  all  nations.  Look  at  the  course  of  historv  since  the 
time  of  Louis  XIII,  and  you  will  find  that  the  efforts 
of  British,  Austrian,  Spanish,  and  Dutch  statesmen  were 
directed  mainly  to  building  up  Barrier-Systems  against 
French  aggressions.  In  the  main  their  efforts  were 


The  Political  History- 


17 


directed  to  Flanders  and  Brabant;  and  we  were  quite 
ready,  even  down  to  the  year  1794,  to  arrange  plans  for 
annexing  French  Flanders  in  order  to  keep  within  bounds 
that  “  most  wicked  and  unprincipled  nation,”  as  George 
III  styled  the  French.  If  we  f'or  a  century  and  a  half 
were  intent  on  weakening  our  “  natural  enemy,”  is  it 
surprising  that  the  Germans,  after  their  infinitely  harder 
experiences,  decided  that  it  was  time  to  end  the  French 
menace  by  retaining  Strassburg  and  Metz  ?  Probably,  if 
we  had  been  in  their  place,  we  should  have  done  the  same. 

Still  less  surprising  is  it  that  the  Germans  determined 
to  form  the  effective  union  out  of  which  they  had  been 
cheated  in  the  years  1814,  1815.  In  1871  there  was  a  good 
basis  on  which  to  work.  The  North  German  Confedera¬ 
tion,  formed  in  1866  on  the  basis  of  Prussian  supremacy 
and  the  hereditary  headship  of  the  House  of  Hohenzollern, 
had  worked  so  effectively  and  triumphantly  that  the  South 
Germans  now  decided  to  join  it,  thereby  forming  the 
German  Empire.  The  lesser  States  required  certain  safe¬ 
guards  and  reservations  which  the  Unionists  somewhat 
grudgingly  conceded ;  and  the  resulting  constitution  is  in 
several  respects  of  a  distinctly  federal  character.  While 
all  national  and  international  affairs  are  subjected  to 
central  control,  the  component  States  have  wide  local 
powers  and  can  in  several  ways  make  their  influence  felt 
at  the  Imperial  capital,  Berlin.  On  the  whole,  the  con¬ 
stitution  is  well  suited  to  the  needs  of  that  great  Con¬ 
federation.*  The  Reichstag,  or  Parliament,  is  elected 
by  universal  suffrage;  but  the  executive  power  is  kept 
entirely  within  the  hands  of  the  Kaiser  and  his  Ministers ; 
they  are  responsible  to  him  alone ;  he  and  they,  as  well  as 
the  Bundesrath  or  Reichstag  can  initiate  laws;  and  this 
lack  of  control  of  the  Ministers  by  the  people’s  House 
occasions  a  good  deal  of  friction.  The  Imperial  machine 
works  with  increasing  difficulty;  but  it  is  questionable 

*For  its  chief  articles  see  C.  Lowe,  “Life  of  Bismarck,”  vol.  ii, 
ad  jin. 

B 


18  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


whether  the  Kaiser  will  give  way  on  the  point  of  the 
responsibility  of  his  Ministers.  For  he  and  they  and  the 
influential  classes  in  Germany  feel  acutely  the  risks  bf 
their  position.  Their  Empire  is  not  a  single  State :  it  is 
a  Confederation  and  has  some  of  the  weaknesses  of  a 
Confederation.  Only  by  keeping  a  firm  grip  on  the 
Executive  can  the  needed  firmness  be  maintained  in 
diplomatic,  military,  and  naval  affairs .  Of  late  years  the 
growth  of  Socialism  has  furnished  another  cause  why  the 
authorities  cling,  as  for  dear  life,  to  the  control  of  every 
wheel  of  the  administrative  machine.  They  believe  that 
control  by  Parliament  would  impair  the  efficiency  and 
the  fidelity  of  the  services.  It  would  be  impertinent  for  a 
foreigner  to  dogmatise  as  to  the  wisdom  or  unwisdom  of 
this  procedure.  Time  alone  can  show  whether  it  is  con¬ 
sonant  with  the  wishes  of  the  German  people  and  whether 
it  corresponds  to  the  needs  imposed  on  them  by  their 
situation  in  Europe. 

One  thing  is  tolerably  certain,  that  the  aims  of  the 
German  rulers  and  of  their  Chancellors  have  been  on  the 
whole  peaceful.  This  lay  in  the  nature  of  things  so  far 
as  concerns  Europe.  By  1871  Germany  had  gained  all 
that  she  could  hope  to  gain  unless  some  great  convulsion 
came  to  shatter  the  Austrian  Empire,  or  endanger  the 
existence  of  Holland  and  Belgium.  The  break-up  of  the 
Austrian  Empire  is  a  thing  which  has  constantly  been 
prophesied;  but  it  never  happens;  and  therefore  I  beg 
to  be  excused  from  discussing  it  here.  Equally  unlikely 
in  my  judgment  is  the  absorption  of  Holland  or  Belgium, 
or  both,  by  the  German  Empire.  Every  other  Great  Power 
has  a  reason  to  oppose  any  such  act  of  aggrandisement ; 
and  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  Balance  of  Power  on 
the  Continent  is  so  delicately  poised  that  no  one  State  is 
likely  to  begin  a  reckless  game  of  grab.  The  great  fact  of 
the  decades  of  the  eighties  and  nineties  was  the  formation 
of  the  Triple  and  Dual  Alliances,  on  which  I  must  say  a 
few  words. 


The  Political  History  19 

In  1878  during  the  Congress  of  Berlin  Bismarck 
supported  the  British  and  Austrian  claims  as  against  those 
of  Russia  on  the  Eastern  Question ; — a  fact  generally 
forgotten,  hut  which  proves  that  German  policy  was  far 
from  being  as  anti-British  as  was  often  believed.  His 
bias  in  favour  of  Austria  and  England  greatly  offended 
Russia,  the  result  being  that  Germany  and  Austria  soon 
came  to  an  understanding  which  ripened  into  alliance, 
and  that  alliance  was  in  1882  solidified  by  the  accession 
of  Italy.  For  various  reasons  France  and  Russia  were 
much  slower  in  coming  to  terms  :  in  fact  not  until  after 
the  accession  of  the  Czar  Nicholas  II  in  1894  did  the 
Dual  Alliance  of  France  and  Russia  come  to  pass.  The 
interval  therefore  was  the  time  when  German  policy,  if  it 
had  been  warlike,  would  have  shown  itself  so.  True  in 
1882-5  Germany  put  forth  great  activity  in  colonial 
questions;  and  it  is  worth  noting  that  this  activity  began 
as  soon  as  Germany  enjoyed  the  alliance  of  Austria 
and  Italy,  while  France  was  completely  isolated.  Very 
naturally,  then,  Germany  threw  herself  into  the  colonising 
efforts  to  which  her  high  birth-rate  and  restricted  territory 
compel  her  to  resort.  In  this  connection  it  is  worth 
noting  that  in  the  last  forty  years  the  population  of  that 
Empire  has  increased  from  41,000,000  to  65,000,000;* 
and  in  this  fact  alone  there  is  ample  justification  for  the 
adoption  of  a  forward  colonial  policy,  or  what  is  termed 
Welt-PolitiJc.  A  people  which  increases  fifty  per  cent,  in  a 
generation  must  be  a  colonising  people,  must  have  a  great 
overseas  commerce,  must  therefore  have  a  great  navy. 

The  colonial  impulse,  I  repeat,  became  marked  in  the 
year  1882  when  Germany  felt  secured  by  her  new 
alliances.  Accordingly,  the  next  three  or  four  years 
saw  a  vigorous  expansion  in  the  new  lands,  viz.,  the 
Cameroons,  S.W.  Africa,  the  hinterland  of  Zanzibar, 
New  Guinea,  and  Samoa,  attempts  being  also  made  to  get 
a  foothold  at  St.  Lucia  Bay  in  Zululand  and  other  points 
*  Prof .  Oncken,  in  “  Camb.  Mod.  Hist.,”  xi,  168. 


20  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


not  far  distant.  There  seem  to  be  good  grounds  for 
believing  that  the  colonial  party  at  Berlin  made  great 
efforts  to  push  German  claims  both  through  Zululand  and 
Damaraland  so  as  to  cut  off  Britain’s  northward  progress. 
The  whole  truth  about  this  is  not  known  :  what  we  know 
is  that-  Sir  Charles  Warren’s  expedition  to  Bechuanaland 
led  to  the  ejection  of  the  raiding  Boers  and  the  annexa¬ 
tion  of  that  most  valuable  territory  to  the  British  Empire 
(1885).  At  several  other  points  the  friction  between  us 
and  the  Germans  was  for  a  time  acute;  but  it  is  desirable 
to  remember  that  that  friction  did  not  end  in  flame.  The 
German  colonial  party  accepted  defeat  in  South  Africa; 
but  it  had  its  way  at  other  points;  and  loud  was  the 
wailing  of  nervous  Britons  as  to  the  decadence  of  our  race 


and  the  approaching  end  of  the  British  Empire.  The 
disputes  with  Germany  were  terminated  by  mutual  con¬ 
cessions  ;  and  our  concessions,  though  certainly  extensive, 
did  but  register  the  fact  that  our  Government  recognized 
the  naturalness  and  the  justice  of  the  claims  of  Germans 
to  have  some  share  in  the  last  courses  of  that  world- 
banquet  on  which  in  earlier  and  less  strenuous  ages  we 
had  so  plentifully  and  profitably  dined.  After  all,  it  was 
only  the  leavings  which  were  in  dispute  in  the  eighties ; 
and  it  was  both  dignified  and  just  not  to  haggle  about 
them  too  obstinately. 

As  is  well  known,  these  disputes  were  finally  disposed  of 
by  the  Anglo-German  agreement  of  1890  which  aroused 
equally  angry  comment  on  both  sides  of  the  North  Sea, 
and  may  therefore  be  considered  fairly  just.  The  hopes 
entertained  by  Germans  as  to  the  productiveness  of  their 
colonies  have  been  in  the  main  disappointed;  and  S.W. 
Africa  involved  them  in  a  long  and  annoying  strife  with 
the  natives,  the  consequences  being  decidedly  chastening 
to  the  ardent  hopes  of  the  colonial  party. 

In  the  main  it  is  unquestionable  that  the  formation  of 
the  German  Empire  has  conduced  to  the  peace  of  the 
world.  The  statement  will  appear  strange  to  those  who 
know  nothing  but  the  events  of  the  present;  for  whom 


The  Political  History 


21 


history  is  an  ever  shifting  dazzling  cinematograph. 
History  ought  to  be  something  more.  It  ought  to  throw 
the  light  of  the  past  cn  the  turmoil  of  the  present ;  and 
in  that  serener  light,  things  which  seem  irritating  will 
appear  natural.  For  if  we  look  at  the  past,  we  find  that 
our  forefathers  dreaded  France  far  more  than  the  wildest 
alarmists  now  fear  Germany.  And  their  dread  was  with 
reason.  The  position  of  France  gave  her  great  advantages 
for  an  attack  on  England  and  English  commerce.  She 
has  ports  in  the  North  Sea,  the  English  Channel,  the 
Hay  of  Biscay,  and  the  Mediterranean ;  and  the  observation 
of  her  many  harbours  and  extensive  littoral  was  a  task 
far  harder  than  that  which  would  await  the  British  navy 
in  case  of  a  war  between  us  and  Germany.  When  France 
and  Spain  were  leagued  together  against  us,  as  was  often 
the  case,  the  blockade  of  their  combined  fleets  was  well 
nigh  impossible.  That  of  the  German  naval  ports  is  a  far 
simpler  task. 

Further,  the  geographical  position  of  Germany  is  far 
weaker  than  that  of  France.  She  has  no  natural  frontiers 
on  the  East,  and  poor  harriers  on  the  South  and  West. 
Her  policy  is  therefore  almost  necessarily  defensive.  And 
ever  since  the  formation  of  the  Franco-Bussian  Alliance 
in  1895  her  attitude  has  been  cautious.  Her  ruler  might 
make  warlike  speeches  and  send  fiery  telegrams  :  but  those 
speeches  and  telegrams  led  to  no  hostile  action.  The  man 
to  he  feared  is,  not  he  who  makes  speeches  and  sends 
telegrams,  but  rather  he  who  methodically  prepares  a 
blow  and  deals  it  swiftly,  without  warning.  We  can 
merely  speculate  as  to  the  motive  which  prompted  the 
Kaiser’s  words  in  1895 ;  hut  they  were  followed  by  no 
aggressive  acts  in  1899.  Either,  then,  his  attitude  to  this 
country  was  less  unfriendly  than  it  seemed,  or  he  did  not 
feel  prepared  to  take  action.  Again,  it  is  open  to  question 
which  of  these  possible  causes  operated  in  favour  of  peace ; 
but  it  is  worth  remembering  that  that  was  the  time  when  the 
Franco-Bussian  Alliance  altered  the  whole  situation ;  and 


22  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


it  is  highly  probable  that  the  new  Balance  of  Power  was  so 
even,  so  threatening  to  Germany,  as  to  impose  caution. 

Caution,  not  to  say  apprehension,  is  the  prevalent  atti¬ 
tude  on  the  part  of  responsible  men  in  that  land.  In 
fact,  Germany  cannot  well  be  an  aggressive  Power  so 
long  as  the  Franco-Russian  alliance  endures.  For  the 
hostility  of  France  to  Germany  is  lasting;  and  therefore 
the  Franco-Russian  compact  must  be  more  or  less  directed 
against  the  House  of  Hohenzollern.  Germany  accom¬ 
plished  a  wonderful  work  in  unifying  her  people  (or  rather 
Bismarck  and  his  compeers  did  it  for  her) ;  but  even  so 
she  has  not  escaped  from  the  disadvantages  of  her  situa¬ 
tion  ;  by  land  she  is  easily  assailable  on  three  sides ;  by 
sea  she  is  less  vulnerable;  but  there  she  labours  under  a 
great  disadvantage,  viz.,  that  her  oceanic  commerce  has 
to  pass  through  the  Straits  of  Dover  and  down  the  English 
Channel,  within  easy  striking  distance  of  the  French  and 
British  fleets  at  Brest,  Plymouth,  Cherbourg,  Portsmouth, 
and  Dover.  This  is  what  makes  her  nervous  about  her 
mercantile  marine.  This  is  what  makes  her  build  a  great 
fleet ;  and  again,  I  say,  were  we  in  her  situation  we  should 
do  the  same. 

To  sum  up,  then,  it  is  demonstrable  that  the  formation 
of  the  German  Empire  has  been  a  gain  to  Europe  and 
therefore  to  Great  Britain.  For  the  events  of  the  years 
1866 — 1871  put  an  end,  once  for  all,  to  the  possibility  of 
waging  predatory  wars  against  the  hitherto  unguarded 
centre  of  the  Continent,  thereby  removing  a  temptation  to 
war  which  had  so  often  lured  France  into  false  courses  in 
the  previous  centuries ;  they  enabled  the  German  people  to 
develop  its  hitherto  stunted  political  capacities;  and  they 
helped  to  build  up  on  a  sure  basis  a  new  European  System 
which  has  maintained  the  peace  for  40  years.  That  boon 
has  resulted  from  the  fact  that  German  unification 
effected  at  one  stroke  what  Great  Britain,  with  all  her 
expenditure  of  blood  and  treasure,  had  never  been  able  to 
effect,  namely,  to  assure  the  Balance  of  Power  in  so  decisive 
a  way  as  to  make  a  great  war  the  most  risky  of  ventures. 


II.— THE  INTELLECTUAL  AND 
LITERARY  HISTORY 


BY 

C.  H.  HERFORD,  Litt.D. 


THE  INTELLECTUAL  AND  LITERARY  HISTORY. 


Any  attempt  to  give,  witliin  tlie  present  limits,  even 
the  most  meagre  connected  narrative  of  the  intellectual 
and  literary  history  of  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth 
Century  must  necessarily  fail,  even  if  it  did  not 
demand  a  competence,  in  virtually  every  department  of 
knowledge,  which  is  now  beyond  the  reach  of  any 
individual.  The  present  essay  seeks  merely  to  distinguish 
some  of  the  main  currents  in  this  vast  stream  of  thought, 
and  to  define  a  few  of  the  more  decisive  points  of  their 
course.  All  detail  is  purely  illustrative;  there  is  nowhere 
an  attempt  at  even  proximate  completeness.  And  vast 
tracts  both  of  the  “  intellectual,”  and  more  especially  of 
the  ‘‘literary,”  history  are  ignored  altogether;  some 
because  they  contributed  little  of  lasting  value  to  the 
total  output;  others  because  they  were  either  too  deriva¬ 
tive,  or  too  original,  too  European  or  too  provincial,  to 
illustrate  those  “  main  currents  ”  of  German  achievement 
with  which  we  are  here  concerned;  yet  others  merely 
because  the  writer  found  illustrations,  with  which  he  was 
less  incompetent  to  deal,  elsewhere. 

I. 

It  is  one  of  the  commonplaces  of  philosophic  history 
that  the  ages  of  great  intellectual  expansion  in  a  people’s 
development  have  followed  great  expansions  of  its 
political  power.  Athens  under  Pericles,  Rome  under 
Augustus,  England  under  Elizabeth — such  examples  might 
tempt  us  to  think  that  poetry  is  invariably,  as  Hobbes 
said  of  laughter,  a  “sudden  glory,”  called  forth  by  an 
exulting  sense  of  our  own  superiority.  Nothing  in 


26  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


modern  times  more  effectually  belies  such  a  belief  than  a 
comparison  of  tbe  intellectual  with  the  political  situation 
of  Germany  at  the  beginning  of  the  Nineteenth  Century. 
I  need  but  refer  to  the  vivid  picture,  drawn  in  the  previous 
lecture,  of  the  Germany  of  those  years; — a  series  of  dis¬ 
cordant  states,  ruthlessly  trampled  on  and  dismembered, 
now  the  writhing  victim,  now  the  helpless  spectator  of  the 
world-conflict  waged  between  the  two  great  compact  historic 
polities,  England  and  France.  Yet  these  years  of  outward 
impotence  and  humiliation  mark,  it  is  not  too  much  to 
say,  one  of  the  two  or  three  culminating  moments  in  the 
entire  intellectual  history  of  Europe,  and  one  of  the  three 
or  four  culminating  moments  of  its  literature.  And  while 
elsewhere  political  greatness  was  one  of  the  sources  of  the 
inner  expansion,  in  Germany,  on  the  contrary,  the  intel¬ 
lectual  energies  of  those  years  created  the  fruitful  soil 
out  of  which  political  greatness  was  finally,  by  the  hand 
of  a  mighty  tiller,  to  be  won.1  Like  the  brooding  East, 
in  Arnold’s  poem,  she 

“  bowed  low  before  the  blast 
In  patient,  deep  disdain; 

She  let  the  legions  thunder  past, 

And  plunged  in  thought  again ;” 

but  her  thought,  too,  was  pregnant  with  the  forces  which 
mould  faiths  and  transform  peoples. 

Naturally,  from  this  standpoint  of  inner  development, 
the  relation  of  Germany  to  the  rest  of  civilised  Europe 
assumes  quite  another  aspect.  The  poor,  ragged  Cinderella 
of  Jena  and  Eylau  reappeared  as  the  radiant  queen  of 
the  ball,  outshining  both  the  proud  elder  sisters,  though 
they  were  too  proud,  and  she,  as  yet,  too  humble  to 

1.  Cf.  W.  Windelband,  Die  Philosophie  im  deutschen  Geistesleben  des 
19ten  J ahrkunderte ,  p.  6.  These  five  lectures  afford  an  admirably  lucid 
survey  of  the  intellectual  history  of  Germany  during  the  century.  The 
present  essay,  though  quite  different  in  aim  and  plan,  owes  much  to 
their  guidance  and  suggestion. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  27 


be  aware  of  it.  The  matter  may  be  summarily  stated 
thus.  The  great  movement  of  critical  and  constructive 
intelligence  which  is  the  chief  distinction  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  had  been  pre-eminently  the  work  of  France  and 
England.  France  under  Louis  XI Y  had  succeeded  to  the 
intellectual  hegemony  of  Europe,  held  till  towards  1600 
by  Italy,  as  well  as  to  the  political  hegemony,  exercised 
by  Spain;  until,  about  1700,  this  position,  doubly  chal¬ 
lenged  by  the  England  of  Newton  and  Locke,  and  by  the 
England  of  Marlborough,  passed  into  a  divided  leader¬ 
ship,  of  the  two  nations,  in  both  kinds.  During  the 
greater  part  of  the  century  their  relation  is  one  at  once 
of  comradeship  and  of  rivalry;  the  deadly  struggle  of  two 
great  military  powers  being  carried  on  without  the  least 
prejudice  to  the  concurrent  and  immensely  fruitful 
exchange  of  ideas  between  two  great  and  original  civilisa¬ 
tions.1  Germany,  on  the  other  hand,  slowly  recovering 
from  the  frightful  ravages  of  the  Thirty  Years’  War,  was 
still,  in  1700,  far  in  the  rear,  and  continued,  till  about 
1760,  to  play  a  quite  secondary  part,  fed  largely  on  what 
she  gathered  from  their  rich  tables.  But  from  Lessing 
onward  she  begins  to  unfold  original  qualities  in  astonish¬ 
ing  abundance,  and  with  all  the  freshness  of  unspoilt 
youth.  And  at  the  same  time,  both  in  England  and 
France,  many  lines  of  intellectual  exploration  hitherto 
pursued,  appear  to  lose  their  zest,  and  are  given  up  as 
barren  or  left  to  inferior  workers.  The  most  striking  case 
is  famous.  The  English  study  of  the  mind  was  carried 
to  a  kind  of  deadlock  by  the  acutest  of  British  thinkers, 

1.  The  facts  are  generally  familiar;  it  will  suffice  to  refer  to  one 
important  example  of  what  may  be  called  cross-fertilisation, — an  English 
literary  development  originating  in  a  French  movement  itself  due  to  an 
English  stimulus.  Thus  Hume,  as  a  historian,  is  a  child  of  Voltaire, 
whose  own  attempts  to  rationalise  historical  writing  were  inspired  by 
the  scientific  enthusiasm  he  had  caught  in  the  country  of  Newton. 
J.  Texte’s  J.  J.  Rousseau  et  le  cosmopolitisme  litter aire  is  still  the  best 
book  on  the  subject.  Buckle  thought  “the  union  of  the  English  and 
French  mind  ”  the  most  important  fact  of  the  eighteenth  century. 


28  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


David  Hume.  The  political  thinking  of  France  reached 
both  a  climax  and  a  terminus,  in  one  direction  with 
Rousseau,  the  most  original  and  fertile  French  philoso¬ 
pher,  in  another  with  Turgot,  the  most  sagacious  and 
beneficent.1  Burke,  the  first  Englishman  to  think  organi¬ 
cally  upon  politics,  had  no  direct  English  successors.2 
Gibbon’s  great  work,  which  made  an  epoch  both  in  the 
comprehension  of  history  and  in  the  writing  of  it,  roused 
in  England,  for  the  time,  little  but  barren  admiration 
relieved  by  the  shrill  anger  of  bishops.3  Rousseau’s 
great  creation,  the  romance  of  passion  and  scenery,  after 
putting  forth  one  frail,  exquisite  shoot,  the  idyll  of 
Bernardin  de  Saint-Pierre,  remained  barren  till  Chateau¬ 
briand  and  Mme.  de  Stael.  Lowth  and  Wood  virtually 
initiated  the  literary  appreciation  of  the  Old  Testament, 
and  of  Homer;  Burke 4  nearly  at  the  same  time  inau- 

1.  Rousseau’s  Contrat  Social  was  in  a  great  measure  translated  into 
practice  in  the  Revolution,  but  had  otherwise,  in  France,  no  sequel. 
The  complete  collapse  of  Turgot’s  scheme  of  reform  was  a  national 
disaster  of  the  first  magnitude. 

2.  Burke’s  political  ideas,  nowhere  systematically  expressed,  and  liable 
to  be  discounted  by  his  change  of  front,  had  no  apparent  effect  upon 
any  English  thinker  of  the  next  generation.  The  whole  weight  of 
Bentham  and  his  school  naturally  told  against  them.  Malthus  supported 
similar  practical  conclusions  but  by  radically  different-  arguments. 
Burke’s  only  direct  disciples  were  the  German  reactionaries  after  the 
war,  particularly  Gentz.  Coleridge,  the  first  Englishman  whose 
political  thinking  recalls  Burke’s,  drew  directly  from  his  German 
masters. 

3.  The  Nouvelle  Heloise  was  published  in  1761,  Paul  et  Virginie  in 
1787.  Its  influence  upon  novel- writing  in  England  also  went  little 
beyond  Bage’s  Barham  Downs  (1788)  and  the  landscape  backgrounds  of 
Mrs.  Radcliffe.  Emile  (1762),  on  the  other  hand,  and  the  Contrat  Social 
produced  a  flood  of  educational  and  political  novels,  beginning  with 
Henry  Brooke’s  The  Fool  of  Quality  (1766-70). 

4.  Burke  in  his  Inquiry  into  the  origin  of  our  Ideas  of  the  Sublime 
and  the  Beautiful  (1756)  referred  these  ‘ideas’  to  particular  forms  of 
pain  or  pleasure,  in  other  words  to  psychological  states,  the  particular 
quality  and  conditions  of  which  he  acutely  analysed.  Burke’s  psycho¬ 
logical  treatment  of  aesthetics  probably  had  some  share  in  determining 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  29 

gurated  psychological  aesthetics;  but  none  of  the  aesthetic 
studies  produced  in  England  during  the  remainder  of  the 
century,  marked  any  appreciable  further  advance. 

Now  in  every  one  of  these  cases,  and  in  others,  the 
unfinished  fabric  of  English  or  French  speculation  served 
as  basis  and  starting-point  for  new  and  vast  architectural 
developments  by  the  builders  of  Germany.  Kant — a 
king  of  builders  as  Schiller  called  1  him — learned  from 
Rousseau  to  recognise  the  dignity  of  man,  and  from  Hume 
to  admit  the  limits  of  his  intelligence :  but  to  those 
thoughts  he  gave  the  amazing  transformation  which  he 
justly  compared  to  that  effected  by  Copernicus  in  our 
conception  of  the  universe.  The  ideals  of  the  historian 
and  the  historical  thinker,  pursued  in  their  different  fields 
by  Montesquieu  and  Turgot,  by  Burke  and  Gibbon,  had 
their  true  sequel  and  fulfilment  in  the  great  historical 
school  of  Germany,  in  the  Wolfs  and  Niebuhrs,  the  Eich- 
horns  and  Savignys.2  Burke’s  essay  in  aesthetics,  received 
with  delight  by  Lessing  and  Moses  Mendelssohn,  preluded 
the  vast  development  carried  out  in  one  direction  by  Kant 
and  his  followers,  in  another,  long  after,  by  Fechner. 
Rousseau’s  educational  ideas  were  developed  by  Pestalozzi ; 

1.  Cf.  Schiller’s  epigram  on  the  commentators  of  Kant  :  Wenn  die 
Konige  bau’n,  haben  die  Karrner  zu  thun. 

2.  Gibbon’s  luminous  survey  of  the  Roman  law  {D.  and  F.,  ch.  44) 
was  translated  into  German  in  1789,  with  a  preface  by  Prof.  Hugo  of 
Gottingen,  laying  down  the  historical  principles  afterwards  developed 
by  Savigny.  Paul,  Gesch.  d.  german.  Phil.,  p.  65,  in  his  Grundriss. 

the  essentially  psychological  method  of  the  Laolcoon  (1766)  where  the 
distinction  between  painting  and  poetry  is  based  upon  the  simultaneous 
and  successive  presentation  of  images.  Kant  and  his  successors  accen¬ 
tuated  the  ideal  and  transcendental  aspects  of  beauty,  and  both  Schiller 
and  Hegel  made  permanent  contributions  of  vast  importance  to  the 
theory  of  art  and  poetry.  But  they  neglected  the  senses ;  and  the 
psychological  point  of  view  of  Burke  was  more  precisely  resumed  after 
the  decline  of  idealism,  by  G.  T.  Fechner  in  his  Vorschule  der  Aesthetik 
(1876),  with  the  aid  of  experimental  methods  of  which  Burke  naturally 
never  dreamed. 


30  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


his  speculative  exaltation  of  primitive  man  reappeared, 
transformed  by  insight  and  first-hand  knowledge,  in  the 
ideal  U rsprunglichkeit  of  Herder.  Percy,  with  the  Reliques 
of  Ancient  English  Poetry f  provoked  in  England  much 
elegant  verse,  but  little  indeed,  before  Scott  and  Coleridge, 
that  reaches  the  poignant  simplicity  to  which  it  possibly 
helped  Burger  in  Lenore ;  and  neither  Percy  nor  Lowth  1 
nor  any  other  Englishmen  of  the  century  equalled  Herder  2 
in  comprehension  of  the  genius  of  primitive  poetry  and 
primitive  speech.  And  the  national  significance  of  his 
vrork  was — until  the  Reliques  stirred  the  genius  of  Scott — 
far  greater.  Percv  extended  the  limits  of  English  taste; 
Herder  provideTanew  organ  for  the  German  spirit.  An 
analogous  transformation  took  place,  finally,  in  Hellenic 
studies.  England,  from  Bentley  to  Porson,  had  here  held 
indisputably  the  first  place.  But  at  the  very  moment  when 
Porson  flung  off  his  scornful  epigram  about  the  Germans  in 
Greek  being  sadly  to  seek,  German  scholarship  was  about  to 
assume  the  still  more  indisputable  lead  which  it  has  never 
lost.  Wood’s  3  essay  heralded  the  yet  more  epoch-making 
Homeric  work  of  Wolf;  and  the  Greek  ideals  of  art  and 
life  became  with  Goethe  and  Schiller  at  Weimar,  as  the 
ideals  of  primeval  song  had  done  with  Herder,  instru- 


1.  Lowth’s  lectures  on  Hebrew  poetry  ( De  sacra  poesi  Hebrceorum, 
1753)  were  the  starting  point  both  for  the  rationalist  criticism  of  the 
Old  Testament,  led  by  Michaelis,  and  for  Herder’s  literary  study  of 
Hebrew  song.  R.  Wood’s  Essay  on  the  Original  genius  and  writings  of 
Homer  (1769)  applied  the  results  of  a  close  study  of  Greek  localities  to 
the  illustration  of  the  Homeric  poems. 

2.  Herder’s  V olhslieder  appeared  1778-9. 

3.  Wood’s  Essay  appeared  in  German  translation  in  1773,  and  deeply 
impressed  the  young  Goethe.  The  enthusiastic  review  of  it  in  the 
Frankfurter  Gelehrte  Anzeigen,  commonly  ascribed  to  him  (Wke.  ed. 
Hempel,  xxix,  86  f.),  is  a  valuable  document  for  the  English  cultural 
influences  of  those  critical  years.  Long  afterwards  ( Dichtung  und 
Wahrheit,  Bk.  xii)  his  mature  judgment  expressed  the  debt  of  Homeric 
studies  to  Wood  with  undiminished  emphasis.  “We  no  longer  saw  in 
these  poems  an  exaggerated  and  bombastic  heroism,  but  the  reflected 
reality  of  a  primeval  present,  and  we  did  our  utmost  to  assimilate  it.” 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  31 


ments  upon  wliicli  the  German  spirit  found  its  way  to  a 
new  music  which  was  yet  fundamentally  its  own. 

What  was  the  secret  of  these  German  builders  P  Put  in 
the  fewest  words  merely  this :  a  peculiarly  widespread, 
strenuous  and  whole-hearted  pursuit  of  truth,  combined 
with  a  peculiar  sensibility  to  certain  forms  of  it.  To  the 
favoured  elite  among  the  countrymen  of  Descartes  and  of 
Newton  the  temper  of  science  was  assuredly  known;  but 
the  passion  for  knowledge  was  taught  to  modern  Europe, 
if  at  all,  mainly  by  thousands  of  German  scholars  working 
fifteen  hours  a  day,  often  in  homely  attics  and  garrets. 
But  while  their  range  of  theoretic  interest  was  unlimited 
it  was  drawn  with  especially  fruitful  effect  towards  three 
beacons, — three  illuminating  and  controlling  conceptions 
— which  I  may  denote  by  the  watchwords :  elemental , 
organic ,  psychical.  It  was  by  his  immeasurably  finer 
insight  into  the  ways  of  elemental  humanity — of  primitive 
or  naive  peoples,  that  Herder  went  beyond  Percy;  it  was 

ion  of  organic  or  evolutionary  conceptions 
to  enormously  increased  knowledge,  that  the  German 
historic  school  went  beyond  Hume  and  Voltaire,  and  in 
some  respects  even  beyond  Gibbon ;  it  was  by  his  vastly 
more  adequate  appreciation  of  mind,  in  its  heights  and 
depths,  in  its  reason  and  its  unreason,  its  clear  discourse 
and  its  unfathomable  intuitions,  that  Kant  went  beyond 
Hume. 

Moreover,  each  of  these  three  developments  of  intel¬ 
lectual  outlook  was  a  result  of  the  pressure  of  just  those 
less  rational  elements  of  mind  upon  the  springs  of  faith. 
Imagination,  feeling,  will,  asserted  their  right  to  be  heard, 
by  the  side  of  or  above  the  reason;  and  the  universe 
became  vaster,  deeper,  and  more  wonderful  under  their 
transforming  touch.  The  irrational  was  recognised  as  a 
source  of  illumination;  wisdom  was  gathered  from  the 
child  and  from  the  flower ;  science,  philosophy  and  poetry 
drew  together.  With  us  in  England,  this  recovery  of 
imagination  created  a  noble  poetry,  but  left  the  sciences 


by  the  applicat 


32  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


and  philosophy  almost  untouched.  One  of  the  keys  to 
the  comprehension  of  the  entire  period  is  the  fact  that 
whereas  in  England  and  France  the  poetic,  philosophic 
and  scientific  movements  ran  largely  in  different  channels, 
in  Germany  they  mingled  or  fused.  Wordsworth  chanted 
and  Bentham  calculated;  but  Hegel  caught  the  genius 
of  poetry  in  the  meshes  of  logic;  and  the  thought  which 
discovers  and  interprets  and  the  imagination  which  creates 
wrought  together  in  fruitful  harmony  in  the  genius  of 
Goethe. 


II. 

In  Goethe  indeed,  pre-eminently,  all  the  main  aspects 
of  the  complex  transformation  I  have  spoken  of  were 
present  together.  In  his  long  career,  stretching  from  the 
Seven  Years’  War  to  our  first  Reform  Bill,  the  German 
eighteenth  century  is  completed  and  summed  up;  while 
the  German  nineteenth  century  is  in  almost  every  signifi¬ 
cant  point  reflected  or  foretold.  What  M.  Legouis  has 
said  of  Wordsworth  is  even  truer  of  Goethe:  “  To  learn 
how,  in  his  case,  manhood  was  developed  out  of  early 
youth,  is  to  learn  how  the  nineteenth  century  was  born 
from  the  eighteenth,  so  different,  yet  with  so  manifest  a 
family  likeness.”  1  The  intellectual  energy  which  seeks 
to  discover  continuity  in  the  teeming  multiplicity  of 
Nature,  was  united  in  him  with  a  noble  and  profound 
naivete  in  which  Nature  herself  was  imaged  with  pellucid 
fidelity,  like  the  pebbles  seen  in  the  water  of  a  clear  brook.2 
His  poetry  was  the  expression  of  a  wonderfully  intense 
and  luminous  eye  for  facts;  it  grew  directly  out  of  some¬ 
thing  that  he  had  himself  gone  through;  the  experience 
gathering  in  his  mind,  thought  and  imagery  and  language, 

1.  Legouis,  The  Youth  of  Wordsworth,  p.  253. 

2.  Cf.  Xenien,  No.  72  (doubtless  by  Schiller)  :  ‘Reiner  Bach  du 
entstellst  nicht  den  Kiesel,  du  bringst  ihn  dem.  Auge  Naher;  so  seh’  ich 
die  Welt,  .  .  .  wenn  du  sie  beschreibst.’ 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  33 


clarifying  itself  of  disturbing  accidents,  but  retaining  its 
essential  truth.1  And  somewhat  in  the  same  way  his 
mind  itself  underwent  a  perpetual  unfolding  through  the 
eighty  years  of  his  life,  gathering  new  elements  without 
losing  the  old.  “Das  grosse  Kind”  he  called  himself; 
and  indeed  the  child  in  him  never  sank  to  sleep;  the 
wonderful  eyes  of  his  portrait  as  an  old  man  look  out  at 
you  under  the  Olympian  brow  with  a  rapt  serenity  like 
that  of  the  two  seraphic  children  at  the  feet  of  the  Sistine 
Madonna;  and  long  after  his  sixtieth  year  the  thrill  of 
beauty,  of  passion,  of  meeting  and  separation,  evoked 
from  him  lyric  utterance  (as  in  the  Marienbader  Elegie) 
as  ravishing  in  its  simple  intensity  as  the  songs  of  his 
magnificent  youth  themselves. 

But  with  this  elemental  simplicity,  as  of  a  child,  there 
went  a  deep  comprehension  of  the  complexity  of  life. 
Never  has  the  continuity  of  organism,  the  implication  of 
all  the  parts  in  the  whole,  and  of  the  whole  in  the  parts, 
been  more  pregnantly  expressed  than  in  his  “  Natur  hat 
weder  Kern  noch  Scliale,  Alles  ist  sie  mit  einem  Male.”  2 

1.  Cf.  his  pregnant  little  essay  :  Bedeutende  Fordernis  durch  ein 
einziges  geistreiches  Wort  {Wke.  Bd.  27,  351),  on  the  remark  of  his 
friend  Heinroth  that  his  thought  was  “  gegenstandlich,”  objective;  ‘that 
is,’  he  explains,  ‘  that  my  thought  does  not  detach  itself  from  objects, 
that  the  elements  of  objects,  the  presentations,  enter  into  my  thought 
and  are  intimately  penetrated  by  it;  that  my  intuition  (A  ns  chaining)  is 
itself  a  thinking,  and  my  thinking  an  intuition.’  And  he  goes  on  to 
tell  how  certain  great  motives  and  legends  like  that  of  the  Braut  von 
Korinth,  remained,  alive  and  active,  in  his  mind  for  forty  or  fifty 
years,  altering  only  towards  greater  clarity  and  definiteness,  without 
changing  their  character.  His  nearest  English  analogue  in  this  is 
without  doubt  Wordsworth. 

2.  In  his  Allerdings  (Morphologie,  1820).  The  saying  was  a  retort 
upon  the  doctrine  that  the  inner  reality  of  Nature  was  wholly  withdrawn 
from  knowledge,  expressed  by  Haller  in  the  quatrain  :  “  Ins  Innre  der 
Natur  dringt  kein  erschaffner  Geist;  Gliickselig  wem  sie  nur  die  aussre 
Schale  weist !”  Goethe’s  conviction  that  the  sensuous  intuition  revealed 
the  depth  as  well  as  the  surface  of  Nature,  was  the  source  both  of  his 
strength  and  of  his  weakness  in  science.  It  helped  him  to  his  divining 


34  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


Tliis  profound  persuasion  led  to  at  least  two  notable 
discoveries.  In  a  beautiful  and  famous  poem  be  set  forth 
the  then  novel  doctrine  that  the  flower  is  a  metamorphosed 
leaf;  and  the  finding  of  a  sheep’s  neckbone  at  Venice  led 
him  to  the  analogous  divination  that  the  brain  is  an 
expanded  vertebra.1  The  human  form  itself  was  the 
culminating  point  of  a  vast  organic  process ;  the  key  to 
the  entire  structure  of  Nature,  as  well  as  the  source  of  the 
most  perfect  Art;2  he  saw  the  statue  with  the  eye  of  a 
morphologist,  and  the  skeleton  with  the  eye  of  the 

1.  At  the  same  time,  the  strictly  historic  sense,  like  the  sense  of 
nationality  which  it  so  powerfully  stimulates,  was  but  faintly  developed 
in  Goethe.  Even  his  Hellenism  was  enthusiasm  not  for  a  people  but  for 
an  artistic  ideal  which  they  had  achieved.  The  Italienische  Reise, 
when  published  in  1817,  offended  Niebuhr  not  merely  by  its  paganism 
but  by  its  purely  aesthetic  valuations.  But  the  two  men  deeply  revered 
each  other,  and  Goethe  gives  us  an  accurate  measure  of  the  relative 
strength  of  his  interest  in  the  character  of  men  and  of  politics,  when  he 
writes,  after  reading  Niebuhr’s  Roman  History-.  ‘It  was,  strictly, 
Niebuhr  and  not  the  history  of  Rome,  which  occupied  me.  .  .  .  The 
whole  body  of  agrarian  laws  concerns  me  not  at  all ;  but  the  way  he 
explains  them,  and  makes  these  complicated  relations  clear  to  me,  this 
is  what  helps  me,  and  lays  the  obligation  on  me  to  proceed  with  equal 
scruple  in  the  affairs  I  myself  undertake.’  Quoted  by  Julian  Schmidt, 
Gesch.  der  deutschen  Litt.  seit  Lessing’s  Tod.  iii,  81. 

2.  Both  these  discoveries  belong  to  the  period  of  Goethe’s  most  intense 
and  fruitful  occupation  with  the  scientific  interpretation  of  the  world, 
and  especially  of  organic  life, — the  years  following  his  first  Italian 
journey.  The  Metamorphose  cler  Pfianzen  was  written  in  1790;  in  the 
same  year,  when  visiting  the  Jewish  cemetery  at  Venice,  his  servant 
brought  him  the  broken  sheep-skull,  which  led  him  to  the  solution  of 
the  osteological  problem.  Twenty  years  later,  as  is  well  known,  it  was 
solved  independently  by  Oken.  The  scientific  work  of  Goethe  has  been 
critically  discussed  by  Virchow  and  by  Helmholtz.  Excellent  apprecia¬ 
tions  of  it  are  given  by  Kalischer  in  Werke,  ed.  Hempel,  Bd.  33,  and 
by  R.  M.  Meyer  in  his  Goethe ,  ch.  33  and  34. 

glimpses  into  the  coherence  of  organic  nature;  it  also  made  him  the 
fierce  assailant  of  Newton  for  declaring  sunlight  not  to  be  primitive 
and  elemental. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  35 


sculptor.  To  the  yet  more  complex  continuities  and 
evolutions  of  mental  life  lie  brought  an  insight  in  which 
understanding  was  quickened  by  experience,  and  enriched 
by  sympathy ;  the  soul  for  him  was  always  growing,  as 
his  own  soul  had  always  grown;  life  was  an  education, 
and  his  ripest  wisdom  and  loftiest  poetry  spring  from  this 
infinitely  rich  and  fertile  thought.  Wilhelm  Meister 
serves  his  apprenticeship  in  the  school  of  life,  slowly 
moulded  by  error  and  illusion  towards  an  end  he  could 
not  foresee,  as  Saul  went  out  to  seek  his  father’s  asses  and 
found  a  kingdom.  And  the  steps  in  his  education 
are  marked  by  the  women  whom  he  successively  loves  :  — 
the  lowborn  actress;  the  elegant  but  frivolous  countess; 
then  Therese,  with  her  radiant  intelligence  and  her  large 
heart,  and  Natalie  with  her  finer  and  subtler  gifts  of  soul. 
It  is  Natalie  wTho  finally  becomes  Wilhelm’s  wife,  and 
some  sentences  near  the  close  point  the  direction  in  which, 
for  Goethe,  the  advance  towards  higher  things  in  educa¬ 
tion  lies.  Where  Therese  has  insight,  we  are  told, 
Natalie  has  faith;  where  Therese  has  persistence,  Natalie 
has  love;  where  Therese  has  confidence,  Natalie  has  hope. 
And  it  is  Natalie  who  carries  out  the  ideal  expressed  in 
the  profound  words,  which  Therese  can  only  admire  but 
not  put  into  practice  :  “If  we  treat  men  as  being  what 
they  are,  we  make  them  worse;  but  if  we  treat  them  as  if 
they  were  what  they  ought  to  be,  we  bring  them  as  far 
as  they  are  capable  of  being  brought.”  1  Such  sayings 
attest  Goethe’s  sense  of  something  deeper  than  reason  in 
the  growing  soul  as  in  all  other  kinds  of  growth.  The 
enlightened  intellects  of  the  18th  century  saw  everything 
clear  and  reduced  everything  to  system :  Goethe’s  eye 
reaches  forth  across  that  which  can  be  put  into  words  to 
that  which  evades  them ;  across  that  which  can  be  taught, 
to  that  which  must  be  discovered.  “  Whoever  half  knows 
an  art,  is  always  astray  and  always  talking :  whoever 
possesses  it  entire  seeks  only  to  act  it  out,  and  talks  seldom 

1.  Wilhelm  Meisters  Lehrjahre,  viii,  4. 


36  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


or  late.  The  others  have  po  mysteries,  and  no  power; 
their  teaching  is  like  baked  bread,  succulent  and  satisfying 
for  a  single  day;  but  the  meal  cannot  be  sown,  and  the 
seed-grain  must  not  be  ground.”  1  The  mysterious,  silent, 
forces  of  Nature  have  to  co-operate,  and  hers  is  the  vital 
part. 

In  the  growth  of  Faust,  other  phases  of  Goethe’s  thought 
come  into  more  distinct  expression.  From  the  Dionysiac 
tumult  of  the  senses  he  is  borne  to  the  Apolline  clarity  of 
art,  and  thence  finally,  to  the  sober  energy  of  social 
service.  Gretchen  is  forgotten  in  the  stately  presence  of 
Helen  of  Troy,  the  embodiment  of  all  that  Goethe  revered 
in  the  art  of  Greece. 

But  art,  though  an  element  in  all  the  highest  human 
development,  could  not  for  Goethe  suffice.  Matthew 
Arnold  never  said  anything  more  gravely  misleading  than 
when  he  summed  up  Goethe’s  message  in  the  words  :  “Art 
still  has  truth ,  find  refuge  there  A  2  Art  was  not  for 
Goethe  the  resource  of  the  pessimist,  as  it  was  for  Schopen¬ 
hauer;  it  was  an  energy  which,  like  the  giant  Antaeus  in 
ancient  fable,  needed  incessant  contact  with  earth,  with 
experience,  with  reality;  and  the  greatest  of  all  the  arts 
was  the  art  of  living.  And  so  the  crown  of  Faust’s  career, 
the  final  phase  by  which  he  wins  exemption  from  his 
compact  with  Mephistopheles,  is  strenuous,  unrelaxing 
service  to  men,  where  epicurean  self-indulgence  is  lost, 
and  joy  is  only  the  foretaste  of  the  diffused  happiness  his 
efforts  have  helped  to  bring  about.  “  One  who  strives 
without  ceasing  we  can  deliver,”  cry  the  angels,  as  they 
pluck  him  away  from  the  expectant  arms  of  Mephisto¬ 
pheles.  And  Faust  himself  sums  up  the  last  conclusion 
of  Goethe’s  wisdom,  that  he  only  wins  freedom,  as  lie  only 
wins  life,  who  has  daily  to  conquer  it  for  himself.  In 
this  final  Faust  we  have  prefigured  the  latter-day  Ger- 
manv  of  strenuous  will  and  action,  and  we  can  the  better 

1.  Wilhelm  Meisters  Lehrjahre,  vii,  9. 

2.  Arnold,  Memorial  Verses,  1850. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  37 

understand  how  the  great  cosmopolitan,  for  whom  state 
and  nationality  were  secondary  and  sometimes  mischievous 
ideals,  yet  holds  his  unassailable  place  as  the  supreme 
poet  of  the  German  empire,  beside  Bismarck  its  creator. 

Such  was  in  substance,  the  work  of  Goethe.  In  that  vast 
complex  we  find,  as  I  have  hinted,  the  German  Nineteenth 
Century  foretold.  Here  are  already  present,  though  not 
in  equal  degree,  all  the  traits  which  make  that  century 
significant.  Here  we  have  the  passion  for  truth,  the 
clear-eyed  fidelity  to  fact ;  here  the  apprehension  of  naive 
and  simple  things,  side  by  side  with  the  most  consummate 
art ;  here  the  fundamentally  organic  thinking,  the  instinct 
for  continuity  and  development;  here  the  profound  self- 
consciousness,  the  eager  psychical  and  cultural  interests, 
the  daemonic  personality;  here,  the  demand  for  action, 
for  service,  for  duty;  here,  finally,  a  brilliant  and  memor¬ 
able  literary  vesture  for  all  these  various  moods  of  mind. 
Let  me  now  attempt  summarily  to  follow  up  these  clues  in 
turn . 

III. 

First,  then,  the  fidelity  to  fact.  In  the  developed  form 
which  it  has  received  in  the  Nineteenth  Century  this  may 
be  defined  as  an  instinct  which  makes,  in  knowledge,  for 
what  is  spontaneous  and  erlebt;  in  administration,  for  what 
answers  with  minute  accuracy  to  a  given  set  of  needs;  in 
conduct,  for  what  is  frank  and  true.  No  German  words 
are  fuller  of  the  sap  of  national  ethics  than  those  which 
denote  these  things  :  wahr ,  grundlich ,  trcu.  They  stand 
for  instincts  which  master  indolence  and  get  the  better  of 
politeness,  or  take  its  place.  When  a  French  reviewer 
points  out  a  misstatement  he  says  :  <k  That  is  inexact  ” ; 
a  German,  no  worse  disposed  to  his  author,  says :  “  That 
is  false.”  The  heroes  of  the  German  nation  have  been 
men  of  colossal  directness,  like  Luther,  with  his  “  ich  kann 
nicht  anders,”  like  Bismarck  “the  honest  broker,”  like 
Lessing  whose  life  was  a  ceaseless  battle  for  truth ;  and 
sincerity  became  the  very  essence  of  heroism  in  the 


38  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


thought  of  the  great  Scottish  apostle  of  German  idealism, 
Carlyle.  The  reverse  side  of  this  quality  must,  however, 
also  be  recognised.  German  literature  is  confessedly  poor 
in  the  kinds  of  creative  work  which  originate  in  an  ironical 
or  humorous  detachment  from  life.  It  has  no  Rabelais 
or  Moliere,  no  Cervantes,  no  Swift,  no  Fielding,  no 
Ariosto.  Irony,  theoretically  exalted  by  the  Romantics 
to  the  very  summit  of  all  literary  excellences,  nay,  pro¬ 
claimed  as  the  very  essence  of  good  literature,  failed  in 
practice  to  inspire  anything  of  more  permanent  value 
than  the  arabesque  romances  of  J ean  Paul ;  while  the  two 
or  three  brilliant  masters  of  irony,  a  Heine,  a  Nietzsche, 
owe  very  little  of  their  acceptance  in  Germany,  so  far  as 
they  are  accepted,  to  this  quality.  The  “  sardonic  smile  ” 
at  “  the  absurdities  of  men,  their  vaunts,  their  feats,” 
which  wandered  over  the  lips  of  the  World-spirit  in  the 
thirties  and  forties  may  have  been  Heine,  as  Arnold  says, 
but  it  was  certainly  not  Germany.  Her  wTay  with  absurdi¬ 
ties  which  do  more  than  froth  the  surface  of  life  is  rather 
the  impatience  of  the  intellectual  realist ;  of  the  same 
intellectual  realist  whose  demand  for  knowledge  first¬ 
hand,  precise  and  complete,  more  than  any  commanding 
originality  has  made  German  science,  in  al]  its  vast 
ramifications,  what  it  is. 

The  results  of  this  scientific  realism  have  often  been 
revolutionary;  to  English  conservatism  they  have  some¬ 
times  seemed  anarchic ;  the  application  of  more  rigorous 
standards  of  research  naturally,  as  a  rule,  disturbing  the 
results  obtained  by  laxer  ones.  They  have  often  amounted 
to  the  creation  of  a  new  study.  Winckelmann  wrote  the 
first  history  of  antique  sculpture  because  he  was  the  first 
to  study  its  monuments  at  first-hand.1  A  generation 

1.  Winckelmann,  Gescliichte  der  Kunst  des  Alterthums ,  1764.  His 
discussion  of  the  Laokoon  gave  the  original  provocation,  as  is  well 
known,  to  Lessing’s  famous  book.  Goethe  took  exception  to  his  con¬ 
ception  of  beauty  in  sculpture  (cf.  Italienische  Reise  passim)  ;  but 
recognised  in  him  the  Columbus  of  his  subject,  who  anticipated  what 
he  did  not  discover.  ‘  Man  lemt  nichts  wenn  man  ihn  lieset,  aber  man 
wird  etwas.’  (Eckermann,  Gespr.,  Feb.  16,  1827.) 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  39 


later,  Boeckh  built  up  the  economic  history  of  Athens 
upon  a  no  less  original  use  of  monuments  literary  and 
other.1  It  was  keener  criticism  of  the  sources,  not  the 
prompting  of  a  fertile  inner  consciousness,  which  led 
Niebuhr  to  rebuild  the  time-honoured  fabric  of  early 
Eoman  history.2  And  it  was  a  closer  and  more  penetrat¬ 
ing  scrutiny  of  the  linguistic  and  literary  facts  of  the 
Homeric  poems,  not  a  passion  for  literary  disruption, 
which  led  Wolf  to  his  no  less  memorable  theory  of  their 
composite  origin;3  a  theory,  let  us  remember,  which 
convinced  against  his  will  the  great  master  of  organic 
unity,  Goethe.4  Yet  again  a  generation,  and  Leopold  v. 
Ranke  revolutionised  the  writing  of  the  history  of  modern 
Europe.5  But  his  bombshell  was  merely  the  proposition 
that  history,  being  intended  to  describe  what  happened, 
must  be  founded  on  the  reports  of  those  immediately  con¬ 
cerned,  as  agents  or  as  witnesses.  He  was  the  first  to  go 
systematically  to  the  archives,  to  construct  his  narrative 
upon  MS.  sources,  on  the  reports  of  ambassadors,  accounts 
of  expenditure,  legal  documents.  He  was  a  great  realist 
among  historians;  he  had  the  realist’s  joy  in  the  fact,  in 
the  sheer  happening  of  a  thing  as  such ;  and  a  famous 
saying  of  his  incisively  crystallises  the  temper  of  historical 
realism  :  “  I  do  not  aspire  to  know  how  things  were  bound 
to  happen  :  I  am  contented  to  know  how  they  did  happen.” 

1.  Aug.  Boeckh,  Staatshmishaltung  der  Athener,  1817. 

2.  Niebuhr,  Romische  Geschichte,  1814. 

3.  F.  A.  Wolf,  Prolegomena  ad  Homerum,  1795. 

4.  Goethe's  attitude  towards  Wolf’s  work  was  not  consistently  main¬ 
tained.  He  hailed  the  discoverer  with  the  utmost  emphasis  in  the 
Elegie  Hermann  und  Dorothea  (Dec.  1796).  In  1821,  however,  he 
returned  to  the  traditional  theory  (the  poem  Homer  wieder  Homer). 
His  final  view  is  expressed  repeatedly  in  the  conversations  with 
Eckennann,  e.g.,  on  Feb.  1st,  1827  :  In  der  Poesie  ist  die  vernich- 
tende  Kritik  nicht  so  schadlich  [as  in  the  Old  Testament].  Wolf  hat 
den  Homer  zerstort,  doch  dem  Gedichte  hat  er  nichts  anhaben  konnen. 

5.  L.  von  Ranke,  (1795-1886).  His  Zur  KritiJc  neuerer  Geschiehts- 
srhreiber  appeared  in  1824;  in  the  following  year  he  became  Professor 
at  Berlin. 


40  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


That  might  seem  to  he  the  formula  of  a  matter-of-fact 
chronicler,  who  had  no  ambition  but  to  report  notable 
occurrences  in  exact  detail  as  they  would  appear  to  an 
observant  onlooker.  But  Ranke’s  formula  meant,  for  him, 
and  he  made  it  mean  for  others,  vastly  more  than  this. 
His  demand  to  know  how  things  happened  was  the  demand 
of  one  who  wras  at  bottom  chiefly  concerned  with  the 
things  which  the  most  observant  onlooker  overlooks  or 
cannot  possibly  discover;  of  one  who  grasped  the  com¬ 
plexity  of  the  forces  of  which  event  is  the  visible  sign, 
and  had  an  almost  un approached  skill  in  unravelling 
their  intricate  web.  He  was  not  specially  the  historian 
of  civilisation,  of  letters,  of  political  or  other  ideas;  they 
did  not,  as  such,  interest  him,  and  he  dismissed  rather 
impatiently  the  methods  of  historical  writing  which  these 
literary  or  ideal  interests  sometimes  inspire  ;  as  when  he 
disposed  of  the  superb  style  of  Michelet  as  one  “  in  which 
the  truth  cannot  be  told.”  But  there  was  no  fact  of 
national  life,  however  ideal,  however  picturesque,  which 
he  would  not  call  in  when  he  needed  it  to  throw  light  on 
the  play  of  forces  which  determined  the  movement  of 
parties,  the  development  of  policies,  the  evolution  of  states. 
Partisans  abused  him  for  his  coldness;  his  detached 
analysis  of  the  Reformation  age  angered  Catholics  and 
Protestants  alike ;  but  his  rigorous  critical  methods,  his 
scientific  grasp  and  his  scientific  vision  secured  for 
historic  studies  a  definite  place  among  the  sciences  of 
mind,  and  even  gave  these  sciences  for  a  time  the  leading 
place  in  the  entire  scientific  movement  of  Germany. 

Ranke  stood,  in  fact,  in  temper  and  method,  nearer  than 
any  other  great  master  of  humane  studies  to  the  men  who 
built  up  the  vast  and  many-sided  edifice  of  the  sciences 
of  Nature.  The  Romantic  philosophers  had  invested 
humanity  and  Nature  alike  with  the  glamour  of  idealism. 
Ranke’s  sober  eye  saw  history  in  the  light  of  common  day ; 
and  the  rapid  strides  of  the  sciences  of  Nature,  in  the 
forties  and  fifties,  marked  not  only  the  scornful  rejection 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  41 


of  the  Romantic  “  Natur philo sophie,” — long  a  byword  of 
intellectual  ignominy, — but  the  temporary  submergence 
of  idealism  itself.  The  middle  years  of  the  century  dis¬ 
pelled  many  illusions,  and  frustrated  many  hopes,  poli¬ 
tical,  intellectual,  ethical,  religious;  the  brilliant  promise 
of  a  new  era  was  shattered  in  ’48 ;  those  for  whom  philo¬ 
sophy  was  still  an  intellectual  need  closed  their  Hegel, 
where  Reason  was  the  moving  principle  of  the  world,  and 
opened  their  Schopenhauer,  where  daemonic  Will,  blind 
and  insatiable,  compelled  all  things  to  share  in  its  own 
futile  unrest.  Rut  the  reverse  side  of  this  sobered  outlook 
was  the  immense  force  and  diffusion  of  the  desire  to 
interpret  the  phenomena  of  the  natural  world,  by  physics, 
chemistry  and  biology. 

In  no  one  of  these  sciences  whether  of  Nature  or  of 
Man  has  Germany  since  1830  stood  below  the  front  rank 
of  the  nations ;  in  mass  of  production  she  has  far  surpassed 
all  others.  One  of  the  cardinal  scientific  discoveries  of 
the  century  is  due  to  her, — Mayer’s  law  of  the  Conserva¬ 
tion  of  Energy.1  In  some  sciences,  such  as  organic  and 
technical  chemistry,  she  has  taken  an  enormously  prepon¬ 
derating  part.  Some,  like  Economics,  which  had  already 
been  carried  to  a  high  degree  of  cultivation  elsewhere,  she 
brilliantly  developed;  or  even  like  the  critical  study  of 
the  Bible,  completely  transformed.  Others,  like  com¬ 
parative  philology  and  comparative  mythology,  are 
virtually  her  own  creation.  English  and  French  scholars 
have  done  more  for  the  discovery  and  original  decipher¬ 
ment  of  new  languages;  of  Sanskrit  and  Assyrian;  of 
Egyptian  and  Chinese.  But  the  science  of  language,  the 
conversion  of  a  study  in  which,  Voltaire  said,  the  vowels 
mattered  nothing,  and  the  consonants  very  little,  into  one 
in  which  every  change  in  a  word’s  form  is  explained  by 

1.  Robert  Mayer  set  forth  his  discovery  in  his  Die  orgahische 
Bewegung  in  ihrem  Zusammenhange  mit  dem  Stoffwechsel  (1845). 
Mayer’s  place  in  the  intellectual  history  of  the  century  is  lucidly  set 
forth  by  Hoffding,  Hist,  of  Mod.  Philosophy ,  Bk.  x,  ch.  1. 


42  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


recognised  phonetic  laws,  now  of  bewildering  intricacy, — 
this  is  essentially  a  German  achievement.1  If  the  develop¬ 
ment  of  our  own  language  is  now,  especially  in  its  earliest 
stages,  of  an  almost  weird  lucidity,  if  the  trained  Anglist 
will  tell  you  how  the  ancestors  of  King  Alfred  spoke 
centuries  before  the  earliest  scrap  of  extant  writing, — this 
is  essentially  a  German  work. 

In  all  this  vast  scientific  achievement  of  Germany,  what 
I  have  called  fidelity  to  fact,  a  strenuous  and  impassioned 
realism,  was  the  standing,  the  decisive  condition.  But 
this  passion  owed  much  both  of  its  direction  and  of  its 
driving  force  to  the  specific  sensibilities  of  which  I  spoke. 
The  feeling  for  the  primeval  stimulated  the  scientific 
study  of  origins,  and  powerfully  nourished  the  assumption 
that  in  the  origin  of  a  people,  or  an  institution,  lies  the  clue 
to  its  nature.  The  sense  of  organism  kept  the  passion  for 
fact  charged  with  the  sense  of  the  richness  of  reality,  the 
complexity,  and  the  interrelatedness,  of  the  knowable 
wTorld.  And  the  psychical  bias  of  Germany,  if  it  has,  in 
the  mechanical  and  physical  regions  of  facts,  at  times 
directly  Unvaried  the  scientific  impulse,  and  substituted 
romantic  dream  for  scrutiny  and  experiment,  lias  in  all 
the  human  or  partially  human  studies  enormously 
stimulated  and  guided  discovery.  It  is  not  in  German 
economics  that  “  things  "  could  ever  have  been  said  to 
“  ride  mankind.”  It  remains  to  illustrate  the  operation 
of  these  specific  sensibilities  in  more  detail,  and  in  the 
literature  of  “  power  ”  as  well  as  of  “  knowledge.’’ 

1.  The  school  of  the  so-called  ‘  Junggrammatiker  ’  emerged  in  the 
later  seventies.  It  attacked  the  problems  of  the  history  of  language 
through  the  direct  observation  of  the  living  tongues,  and  especially  by 
the  scientific  cultivation  of  phonetics.  It  greatly  promoted  the  rigorous 
treatment  of  sound-change  by  the  doctrine  (first  laid  down  by  Leskien 
in  1876)  that  exceptions  to  the  laws  of  sound-change  were  inadmissible. 
Cf.  Paul,  Grundriss  der  german.  Philologie,  i,  121. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  43 


IV. 

If  tlie  call  of  the  primitive  and  elemental,  fertilised 
scientific  curiosity,  it  touched  German  life  more  directly 
at  a  hundred  other  points.  A  vein  of  instinctive 
Rousseauism  lurks  somewhere  in  almost  every  German 
breast.  There  is  an  old  Adam  in  them  all,  as  Morike 
sang;  an  innocent  Adam,  whom  any  hint  of  the  unspoilt 
freshness  of  the  world, — the  breath  of  the  woodland,  the 
Waldgeruch,  or  the  blitheness  of  a  May  morning — trans¬ 
ports  back  into  Paradise  and  touches  anew  with  the  joy 
of  creation.1  Englishmen  may  have  contributed  more  to 
the  literature  of  travel  and  discoverv,  and  more  to  the 
loftier  poetry  of  Nature;  but  the  simple  poetry  of  Wan¬ 
derlust,  of  joyous  roving,  is  almost  as  characteristically 
German  as  the  bewitching  music  which  Schubert  and 
others  have  found  for  it. 

“  W  em  Gott  will  rechte  Gunst  erweisen 
Den  schickt  er  in  die  weite  Welt,” 

that  is  the  text  of  a  whole  cycle  of  German  song.2  Ger¬ 
man  life  itself  is  still  in  many  points  simpler  than  that  of 
France  or  England,  notwithstanding  the  enormous  growth 
of  wealth  and  luxury  there  during  the  last  forty  years. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  the  contrast 
was  far  greater;  and  many  a  modern  German  looks  back 
with  humiliation,  as  a  distinguished  thinker  has  recently 
confessed,3  at  the  unpretending  homeliness  of  that  old- 
world  Germany,  which  achieved  such  vast  things  in  the 
kingdom  of  mind.  Goethe  himself,  the  minister  of  a 
grand-duke,  lived  in  a  house,  the  stateliest  indeed  in 
Weimar,  but  simple  enough  to  modern  ideas;  and  he  loved 
to  escape  from  it  to  his  wooden  gardenhouse  by  the  quiet 

1.  Morike,  Gedichte  :  ‘  Fussreise.’ 

2.  Eichendorff  :  Aus  clem  Leben  eines  Tmigeniehts. 

3.  Windelband,  Die  Philosophie  im  deutschen  Geistesleben  des  19ten 
J ahrhunderbs ,  p.  5. 


44  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


Ilm ;  or  to  that  lonely  hilt  among  the  mountains,  where 
he  wrote  the  wonderful  traveller’s  song:  “ZJeber  alien 
Gipfeln  ist  Ruh.” 

And  some  of  those  vast  achievements  in  the  kingdom 
of  the  mind  were  in  keeping  with  this  homely  society. 
The  ingathering  of  folktales  and  folksongs  from  the  lips 
of  the  peasant,  the  eager  study  of  primitive  German 
institutions  and  folklore,  and  of  the  primitive  institutions 
of  other  peoples, — all  this  was,  and  could  not  but  be, 
the  work  of  men  in  whom  the  instinct  for  the  primitive 
ran  far  deeper  than  the  intellect.  Think  of  the  wonderful 
clear-eyed  tenderness  with  which  Jacob  Grimm  explores 
the  soul  of  Old  German  custom  and  of  Old  German  speech 
and  myth,  in  those  masterpieces  of  science  informed  wTith 
the  very  spirit  of  poetry,  which  in  the  first  generation  of 
the  19th  century  laid  the  foundations  of  German  philology.1 
Aou  feel  in  Grimm,  with  all  his  wealth  of  exact  know¬ 
ledge,  something  of  the  simplicity  of  the  child.  His 
German  speech  is  a  song,  flowing  from  the  heart  of  the 
primeval  Germany  which  he  interprets  because  he  possesses 
it  and  it  possesses  him.  How  rich  is  the  very  word 
urs'ptunglich  in  German,  compared  with  our  original. 
Poetry  and  science,  literary  and  philosophic  impulses, 
cross  and  blend  strangely  throughout  the  movement.  The 
“  LTrmensch  ”  and  the  “  Urzustand  ”  still  wore  for  Herder 
the  glamour  from  which  Rousseau’s  mature  thinking  had 
gradually  and  partially  emancipated  him,  but  which,  in 
virtue  of  a  few  glowing  phrases  of  his  youth,  we  still  call 
Rousseauesque.  But  already  in  Herder  this  passion  for 
the  primitive  was  illuminated  and  controlled  by  a  historic 
sense  and  a  feeling  for  the  varying  genius  of  race  and 

1.  The  great  Deutsche  GrammatiJc  of  Jacob  Grimm,  which  served  as 
model  for  several  other  famous  grammars,  especially  Diez’s  of  the 
Romance,  and  Miklosich’s  of  the  Slavonic  languages,  appeared,  in  four 
parts,  from  1819  to  1837;  his  Deutsche  Mythologie,  1835;  his  Deutsche 
Bechtsaltertiimer ,  1828.  Cf.  Paul,  Geschiclite  der  germ.  Phil.,  p.  81f, 
Grundriss. 


\ 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  45 

nationality.  The  essay  on  the  “  Origin  of  Language/’ 
which  virtually  opened  his  career,  was  at  once  a  hymn  to 
the  glory  of  the  dawn  of  humanity  when  speech  and  poetry 
were  one,  and  a  treatise,  full  of  pregnant  ideas,  in  justifica¬ 
tion  of  this  conception  as  historic  fact.  Among  the 
Romantics  of  the  next  generation  we  watch  the  actual 
burgeoning  of  poetic  idealists  into  philologists  and 
scholars.  To  the  eyes  of  Friedrich  Schlegel  the  land  of 
the  newly  discovered  Yedas  presented  itself  as  the  cradle 
of  the  Aryan  races,  an  Eden  of  indefeasible  reality;  and  he 
threw  himself  upon  Sanskrit  and  became  the  first  German 
master  of  Indian  lore.  Again  a  generation,  and  the 
scholars  are  in  the  ascendant.  The  Friedrich  Schlegels 
are  succeeded  by  the  Franz  Bopps.  It  is  the  day  of  the 
Grimms,  and  of  the  Lachmanns.  Romantic  idealism 
pointed  the  way,  hut  they  guided  their  own  steps  by  the 
torch  of  historic  conscience  and  historic  sense. 

After  all  deductions  have  been  made,  the  German  Mytho¬ 
logy  of  Grimm  and  his  German  Rechtsaltertiimer  remain 
unsurpassed  examples  of  consummate  erudition  penetrated 
with  historic  imagination.  And  if  Grimm’s  exquisite 
instinct  for  the  ways  of  the  folk-soul  in  his  poetical 
moods  led  him  to  disparage  or  ignore  in  his  primitive 
world  what  was  not  poetry  or  was  not  of  the  folk,  the 
defects  of  his  synthetic  imagination  were  supplemented  by 
the  incisive  analytic  criticism  of  his  great  contemporary 
Earl  Lachmann.  Trained  in  classic  philology,  the  author 
of  epoch-making  editions  of  Propertius  and  Lucretius, 
Lachmann  did  more  than  anyone  else  to  make  the  editing 
and  study  of  the  Old  and  Middle  High  German  poets, 
also,  a  scholarly  discipline.  For  half  a  century  his  ideas 
and  methods  inspired  and  dominated  scientific  philology ; 
and  the  achievements  of  his  school  culminated  in  the  vast 
torso  of  a  history  of  German  antiquities,  Deutsche  Alter - 
tumskunde  (1870-87),  left  incomplete  by  his  greatest 
disciple  Karl  Mullenhotf. 

To  pass  from  the  sciences  which  interpret  primitive 


46  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


society  to  the  literature  which  is  itself  touched  with 
primitive  or  elemental  quality,  or  which  seeks  directly  to 
render  these  aspects  of  life,  is  no  difficult  transition;  the 
scientific  and  the  literary  impulse  here  lay  specially  near 
together.  Not  every  investigator  of  early  song  and  story 
wrote  German  like  Jacob  Grimm’s.  But  the  instinct  for 
song  and  for  folksong  is  almost  universal  in  the  German 
people,  and  counts  for  not  a  little  in  their  manifold 
achievement.  Rare  indeed  is  the  German  professor, 
however  formidable  his  apparatus  of  erudition,  who  has 
not  a  tender  place  in  his  heart  for  the  folksong.  It  was 
blood  and  iron  and  song  which  shattered  the  power  of 
imperial  France  in  1870,  and  planted  the  new  empire  on 
its  ruins.  And  Luther  was  not  a  whit  more  himself  nor 
a  whit  more  German  when  he  was  evolving  the  doctrinal 
intricacies  which  still  torment  the  German  catechist,  than 
when  he  broke  into  that  joyous  stave  which  declares  that 
not  to  love  woman,  wine  and  song,  is  to  be  a  fool  for  life. 
German  music  would  not  be  the  supreme  thing  it  is  if  the 
lyric  strain,  the  temper  which  answers  and  thrills  to  song, 
were  not  an  almost  universal  heritage  of  the  German 
people;  nor  is  there  any  more  humiliating  experience  for 
an  Englishman  in  Germany  than  to  meet  a  throng  of 
peasants  and  soldiers,  singing  in  chorus  as  they  go  home, 
and  to  reflect  what  the  same  class  would  be  singing,  if 
they  sang  at  all,  in  our  folksongless  land.1 

It  is  partly  because  the  instinct  for  song  is  so  elemental 
in  the  German  nature,  that  the  German  lyric,  even  in  the 
hands  of  the  most  accomplished  and  literary  persons,  or 
even  especially  in  their  hands,  is  so  deeply  imbued  with 
the  folksong  ideal,  and  precisely  in  its  greatest  moments 
reaches  that  profound  impassioned  simplicity  towards 
which  the  finest  folksong  points.  The  great  example  of 
Goethe  here  unmistakably  pointed  the  way.  In  spite  of 

1.  Observers  of  the  London  crowd  during  the  long  vigil  incident  to  a 
recent  occasion  were  struck  by  the  ‘  pathos  ’  of  people  who  wanted  to 
sing  and  had  no  coronation  song. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  47 


the  greater  popularity  of  Schiller,  in  spite  of  the  attrac¬ 
tion,  precisely  for  his  countrymen,  of  writing  alive 
with  explicit  culture  and  explicit  ideas,  it  was  not  the 
noble  intellectualised  eloquence  of  poems  like  Schiller’s 
“  Die  Ideale  "  which  counted  for  the  future  of1  German 
lyric,  but  the  pregnant  simplicity  of  lines  like  Mignon’s 
song :  “  Nur  wer  die  Sehnsucht  kennt,  Weiss  was  ich 
leide.” 

Neither  in  French  nor  English  lyric  is  there  anything 
quite  parallel.  French  lyric  poetry  has  in  the  Nineteenth 
Century  done  marvellous  things  :  but  its  instruments  have 
been  either  a  prodigious  virtuosity  of  imaginative  appeal, 
as  in  Hugo,  of  plastic  expression,  as  in  the  Parnassiens, 
or  of  symbolic  suggestion,  as  in  the  Symbolistes.  In 
England,  the  great  poet  who  most  resolutely  strove  for  a 
simple  and  natural  lyric  speech,  attained  simplicity  and 
nature,  in  a  sense,  but  at  the  cost  of  failing  altogether  to 
be  lyric.  The  “  Lyrical  Ballads  ”  cannot  be  sung.  The 
might  of  lyric  was  indeed  in  Wordsworth,  but  what 
evoked  it  was  the  majestic  stanza  and  the  sublime  philo¬ 
sophic  inspiration  of  an  Immortality  Ode.  Tennyson, 
almost  alone,  w^as  a  master  of  the  simple  song. 

But  in  the  German  Nineteenth  Century,  the  folk¬ 
song  note  is  the  very  point  de  repere  of  lyric  poetry;  no 
matter  what  its  reach  of  thought  and  range  of  fancy,  that 
is  where  it  comes  home,  that  is  where  it  fetches  its 
strength.  Heine  was  an  immeasurably  more  complex, 
brilliant,  and  versatile  being  than  our  homely  Words¬ 
worth  ;  his  prose  is  a  scintillating  woof  of  incessant  wit- 
play;  but  his  finest  songs, — and  lyric  poetry  has  nothing 
finer, — are  of  an  enthralling  simplicity  of  phrase  and 
thought.  “  In  the  wondrous  month  of  May,  when  all  the 
birds  were  singing,  then  I  told  her  my  longing  and 
desire.”  Or  the  Lorelei ;  or  the  passionate  hero-worship 
of  The  Two  Grenadiers ;  or  the  quiet  stoical  intensity  of 
the  Asra, — the  slave  who,  pining  away  with  secret  passion 
for  the  princess,  answers  her  inquiry  with  these  words 


48  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


only  :  “  My  name  is  Mohamed,  I  come  from  Yemen, 

“  IJnd  mein  Stamm  sind  jene  Asra 
Welche  sterben,  wenn  sie  lieben.” 

Story,  as  also,  despite  some  magnificent  exceptions, 
drama,  is  a  less  congenial  product  of  the  German  soil 
than  song.  Nowhere  is  the  theatre,  as  an  institution, 
more  alive.  But  how  little  of  the  work  of  the  Nine¬ 
teenth  Century  masters  of  German  drama, — even  of 
a  Hebbel  or  a  Grillparzer- — is  intimately  German,  like 
the  First  Part  of  Faust ,  or  as  Moliere  is  French? 
In  secure  mastery  of  narrative  Germany  cannot  match 
the  long  and  brilliant  series  of  English  and  French 
masters.  But  if  she  has  had  no  Fielding  and  no  Scott, 
no  Merimee  and  no  Flaubert,  she  has  achieved  many 
considerable,  and  a  few  consummate  things,  in  kinds 
pre-eminently  her  own.  And  one  source  of  her  special 
strength  here  has  been  that  profound  grasp  of  elementary 
natures,  of  the  primitive  grounds  of  character,  which  we 
have  seen  as  one  of'  the  springs  of  German  lyric.  But 
even  more  rarely  than  in  the  lyric  does  this  instinct  for 
the  primitive  appear  without  alloy  in  the  story.  Song  of 
elemental  quality  may  burst  forth  from  the  midst  of  a  com¬ 
plex  and  artificial  society,  as  water  from  a  mountain  lake 
breaks  from  the  fountains  of  a  great  city,  as  Shelley’s  song 
burst  forth  in  the  England  of  Beau  Brummell  and  Lord 
Castlereagh.  But  the  prose  tale  detaches  itself  less  lightly 
from  society,  and  its  character  is  in  part  controlled  by  the 
character  of  the  society  it  represents.  And  German 
society  was  that  of  an  old  historic  land,  whose  primitive 
traits  had  been  much  overlaid  by  the  slow  accumulations 
of  the  ages,  much  defaced  by  the  scars  of  war,  and  not  a 
little  transformed  by  its  own  creative  energy.  Yet  with 
all  this,  it  retained  more  traces  of  primitive  structure 
by  far  than  the  society  of  either  England  or  France.  No 
great  metropolis  imposed  its  mundane  complexities  and 
corruptions,  as  a  standard  to  be  lived  up  to,  upon  the 
nation  at  large.  The  small  town,  the  village,  remained, 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  49 

even  in  the  first  half  of  the  Nineteenth  Century,  quaintly 
old-fashioned,  old-world ;  clothed  with  their  heritage  of 
custom  and  song  and  legend,  as  old  walls  with  ivy  :  so  that 
as  late  as  the  twenties  and  thirties  the  brothers  Grimm 
could  gather  their  immortal  household  tales.  The  novel 
of  metropolitan  society,  so  native  to  Paris  or  London,  is 
still,  in  spite  of  a  Fontane,  a  Heyse,  a  Bohlau,  and  others, 
something  of  an  exotic  in  Germany.  The  novel  of  the 
province,  on  the  other  hand,  of  the  village,  of  the  types  of 
character  and  of  sentiment  which  linger  longest  in  these 
regions,  is  there  peculiarly  at  home.  Kleist’s  Michael 
Kohlhaas,  one  of  the  finest  of  all  German  tales,  is  the  story 
of  a  man  whose  inborn  sense  of  justice  is  so  powerful  and  so 
simple  that  he  cannot  believe  the  state  will  not  help  him  to 
recover  his  wrongly  detained  horses,  and  when  it  fails 
him,  without  hesitation  goes  to  war  with  it.  The  tragedy 
of  great  simple  natures — of  a  Prince  von  Homburg,  a 
Thusnelda,  a  Kathchen  von  Heilbronn — is  also  the 
central  theme  of  his  plays,  which  include  some  of  the 
greatest  dramatic  work  of  the  century.  The  naive  marvel 
of  the  Mdrchen ,  again,  was  interwoven  by  the  Romantics 
with  threads  of  quite  another  origin — fantastic,  cultural, 
realistic — into  the  changeful  taffeta  of  their  tales.  In 
Fouque  it  makes  the  staple  of  the  pattern,  and  even  in  the 
phantasmagoria  of  Hoffmann  it  is  not  completely  over¬ 
powered  by  the  lurid  blue  and  red  glare  of  decadent 
horror  and  crime  and  whimsicality.1  With  the  passing  of 
Romanticism  the  attraction  of  marvel  subsided,  making 
room  for  a  more  quietly  observant  presentation  of  peasant 
and  village  life.  Norway  and  Russia  are  richer  in 
primitive  peasant  types.  But  Bjornson  hardly  equalled, 
and  even  Tolstoy,  that  Titan  with  the  child’s  soul,  and 
Turgenjev,  hardly  surpassed,  the  finest  German  work  of 
this  kind,  far  less  familiar  though  this  be  to  the  world. 

Precisely  the  greatest,  indeed,  are  with  us  the  least 

1.  Hoffmann  has  from  the  first,  characteristically,  been  extremely 
popular  in  France.  He  is  full  of  European  elements. 


D 


50  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


known.  Bertliold  Auerbach,  a  man  of  universal  charm, 
who  brought  literature  to  the  peasants,  and  culture  to  the 
courts,  is  probably  the  next  name  that  the  educated 
Englishman  will  think  of  among  German  men  of  letters 
after  the  inevitable  Heine.  But  Fritz  Reuter,  and  Klaus 
Groth,  and  Hebei,  and  Gottfreid  Keller,  are  almost  wholly 
unknown.  The  prestige  of  Auerbach's  Dorfgeschichten  is 
indeed  somewhat  faded ;  the  insurgent  realism  of  the  last 
twenty-five  years  has  accustomed  our  eyes  to  strident 
colouring  beside  which  their  delicate  hues  seem  lifeless. 
The  talk  of  his  Schwarzwald  peasants,  with  its  subtle 
tincture  of  Spinoza,  is  far  indeed  from  the  crass  dialect  of 
Hauptmann’s  Silesian  weavers.  But  realism  is  not  the 
only  way  to  truth ;  and  Auerbach,  by  literary  processes 
which  seemed  to  promise  merely  idealising  glamour, 
succeeded  in  conveying  an  extraordinarily  life-like  picture 
of  the  village  folk  he  loved.  And  as  Auerbach  interprets 
these  peasants  of  the  hills  and  forests  in  language  rather 
more  subtle  and  exquisite  than  their  own,  so  Klaus  Groth 
renders  in  his  simple  poignant  verse  the  dwellers  on  the 
level  Dithmarschen,  beside  the  melancholy  dunes  of  the 
North  Sea. 

But  the  first  place  among  these  painters  of  the  peasant, 
the  first  place  even  among  all  German  masters  of  story 
since  Goethe,  belongs  to  the  old  Stadtschreiber  of  Zurich, 
Gottfried  Keller.  Like  Meredith  with  us,  he  is  the  poet 
of  a  distinguished  rather  than  a  wide  audience.  Like 
Auerbach  he  offers  little  to  the  harsher  type  of  realist, 
and  absolutely  nothing  to  the  fin  de  siecle  decadent. 
Rottenness  and  degeneration  he  paints  with  fearless  brush, 
but  his  own  temper  is  a  large,  radiant,  and  sound-hearted 
humour.  “  Freedom,  and  light,  and  harmony, — to  these 
three  his  heart  beat  time,”  he  sang  of  another;  “what 
he  did,  he  did  with  all  his  might,  and  struck  the  iron 
when  it  was  hot.”  He  had  the  German  passion  for 
thoroughness,  the  exacting  conscience  of  the  true  crafts¬ 
man,  who  will  endure  no  slovenliness,  no  make-believe. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  51 


The  peasant,  doing  his  daily  work  at  the  plough,  silently, 
unhasting,  unresting,  becomes  under  his  hands,  without  a 
single  false  or  adorning  touch,  as  impressive  as  the  sowers 
and  reapers  of  Millet.  But  there  was  a  vein  of  poetry  in 
him  which  went  deeper  than  this.  He  could  look  with 
genial  irony  upon  that  world  of  sober  and  honest  workers 
which  he  so  deeply  respected ;  and  he  could  describe,  with 
penetrating  insight,  the  demeanour  of  original  characters 
and  daemonic  passions  in  this  prosaic  world.  Such  is  the 
motive  of  his  masterpiece,  the  collection  of  tales  called 
the  “  Leute  von  Seldwyla  ”  :  a  Cervantean  picture,  drawn 
with  a  blend  of  naivete  and  consummate  art.  In  the 
greatest  of  these  tales,  “  A  Village  Borneo  and  Juliet,” 
one  yet  greater  than  Cervantes  is  expressly  recalled. 
Among  the  literary  adaptations  of  Shaksperean  motives, 
Turgenjev’s  “  A  King  Lear  of  the  Steppe  ”  can  alone  be 
matched  with  this  tragic  tale.  What  Shakspere  does  by 
enthralling  lyrical  music  and  imagery,  Keller  effects  by 
the  quiet  continuous  illumination  of  his  transparent  prose, 
where  the  story  unfolds  itself  visibly  before  us.  The 
exaltation  of  a  love  which  annihilates  all  other  emotions, 
memories  and  desires,  stands  out  no  less  intensely  from 
the  background  of  commonplace  when  we  watch  this 
peasant  boy  and  girl  dance,  oblivious  of  all  around  them, 
among  the  scoffing  or  envious  couples  in  the  village 
festival  than  when  we  pass  from  the  chamber  of  Juliet  to 
the  clatter  of  the  Capulet’s  feast.  And  the  horror-fraught 
death  scene  in  the  ghostly  vault  is  not  more  steeped  in 
poetry  than  the  quiet  consummation  of  the  village 
tragedy, — the  boat,  on  which  they  have  found  their  last 
refuge,  floating  down  the  great  river  all  night  between 
its  woods  and  sleeping  villages.  “  And  in  the  chill  of  the 
autumn  morning,  two  pale  forms,  in  close  embrace,  glided 
from  the  dark  hull  into  the  cold  waters.” 

Of  the  lyric  exaltation  of  the  death  of  Romeo  and  J uliet 
there  is  nothing  here;  these  peasant  children  have  no 
splendour  of  phrase.  But  this  quiet  catastrophe,  the 


52  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


deliberately  sought,  foreseen,  and  inevitable  solution  of 
their  story,  has  also  a  harmonious  beauty  and  coherence 
which  the  tragedy  in  the  Capulet  vault,  the  result  of  mere 
accident  and  misunderstanding,  less  completely  possesses. 


III.  THE  INTELLECTUAL  AND 
LITERARY  HISTORY. 

(  Continued). 


THE  INTELLECTUAL  AND  LITERARY  HISTORY. 

( Continued .) 

Y. 

Keller’s  tale  may  help  us,  without  too  violent  a  transi¬ 
tion,  to  take  a  further  step  in  our  course.  The  love  of 
Shakspere’s  Romeo  and  Juliet  blazes  out,  a  sudden 
intense  flame,  at  the  moment  of  their  first  meeting;  three 
days  later  they  lie  dead  in  each  other’s  arms.  Why  does 
Keller  choose  to  bring  his  Romeo  and  Juliet  before  us 
first  as  little  boy  and  girl,  playing  together  in  the  meadow 
between  their  fathers’  farms  P  Why  does  he  show  us  the 
shy  first  beginnings  of  passion,  its  fluctuating  hopes  and 
fears,  its  persistence  through  outward  estrangement,  and 
then  the  ecstatic  heights  of  that  last  consummate  day? 
Because  he  had  what  no  Elizabethan  had  or  could  have, 
what  few  moderns  had  before  the  middle  of  the  Eighteenth 
Century,  a  feeling  for  growth,  for  the  simple  unfolding  of 
a  passion,  or  of  a  soul. 

It  is  easy  to  trace  the  fortunes  of  your  hero  from  the 
cradle  to  the  grave — -or  at  least  to  the  altar,  like  the  old 
romancers,  or  like  Fielding  in  Tom  Jones ,  without  giving 
in  any  striking  degree  that  feeling  of  continuity  through 
change  which  Wordsworth  so  profoundly  expressed  in  his 
saying  :  “  The  child  is  father  of  the  man.”  The  temper 
which  seeks  to  penetrate  and  study  these  transformations 
is  characteristically  German ;  and  the  word  Entwicldung , 
“  unfolding,”  is  accordingly,  like  the  word  ursprunglich, 
saturated  with  German  mentality.  Long  before  Darwin 


56  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

the  conception  had  taken  root  in  the  German  intellect,  and 
exercised  its  powerful  stimulus  in  every  field  of  thought. 
Darwin’s  book  itself,  though  by  no  means  German  in  its 
methods,  was  hailed  in  Germany  with  an  acclamation 
singularly  in  contrast  with  the  hubbub  of  angry  protests 
which  qualified  the  scientific  welcome  at  home.  In 
Germany  Darwin  confirmed  deeply-rooted  persuasions ;  in 
England  he  seemed  to  cut  at  their  roots. 

To  understand  the  ferment  wrought  by  the  idea  of 
evolution  in  the  German  intellect,  we  must  recall  that  in 
it  met  two  lines  of  thought,  which  had  been  separately 
evolved  and  pursued  by  the  advanced  intellects  of  the 
Eighteenth  Century,  and  both  of  extraordinary  synthetic 
value.1  The  one  centred  in  the  conception  of  progress, 
the  other  in  the  conception  of  organism.  The  conviction 
that  there  is  in  human  society  a  movement  towards  an 
ideal  goal,  took  the  place,  as  the  dogmatic  theologies  faded 
into  the  background,  of  the  supernatural  belief  in  a  millen¬ 
nium.  In  Leibniz  it  appears  as  an  optimist’s  solution  of 
the  problem  of  evil ;  the  worse  state  is  the  necessary  condi¬ 
tion  of  the  better.  In  Lessing  it  appears  in  the  guise  of  a 
divine  “  education  ”  of  the  human  race  by  a  more  and  more 
complete  disclosure  of  truth.  In  the  French  encyclo¬ 
paedists,  especially  in  Turgot  and  in  Condorcet,  it  grew  out 
of  the  more  positive  study  of  political  and  social  conditions 
prevalent  in  the  mother  country  of  sociology.  Progress 
is  here  due  wholly  to  man  himself,  the  result  of  the  steady 
labour  of  human  intelligence,  accumulated  through  suc¬ 
cessive  generations. 

But  at  the  same  time  and  sometimes  by  the  same 

1.  Of  the  difficult  subject  attempted  in  the  following  paragraphs  no 
connected  account  seems  to  exist.  But  much  light  is  thrown  on  it  by 
Mr.  Bosanquet’s  Philosophical  Theory  of  the  State,  by  Mr.  Gooch’s 
chapter  on  historical  methods  at  the  close  of  the  Cambridge  Modern 
History,  and  by  Lord  Acton’s  Lectures  on  the  French  Revolution ;  from 
all  of  which  this  section,  though  independently  worked  out,  has  derived 
valuable  hints. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  57 

thinkers  another  line  of  thought  was  being  elaborated. 
To  the  new  scientific  age  the  State  was  a  phenomenon 
needing  explanation,  reducible  to  scientific  law.  Montes¬ 
quieu,  in  the  Esprit  des  Lois  (1748),  showed  that  its  insti¬ 
tutions,  its  legislation,  are  the  expression  of  its  needs, 
and  sought  to  account  for  the  greatness  and  for  the  decline 
of  Rome  by  an  analysis  of  her  outer  and  inner  conditions. 
The  idea  of  a  social  organism  is  already  foreshadowed  in 
the  terms  of  an  alien  philosophy.  A  little  later  it 
struggles  for  expression  through  the  obstruction  not  only 
of  inadequate  terms  hut  of  radically  inconsistent  ideas, 
in  the  Contrat  Social  of  Rousseau.  More  clearly,  and  not 
less  eloquently  than  in  either,  it  emerges  in  the  great 
disciple  of  the  one  and  the  hitter  enemy  of  the  other, 
Edmund  Burke.  But  nowhere  was  the  organic  concep¬ 
tion  of  the  State  more  completely,  more  fatally,  detached 
from  the  doctrine  and  the  faith  in  progress  than  in  this 
great  mouthpiece  of  philosophic  conservatism. 

In  the  second  half  of  the  Eighteenth  Century  these 
ideas  through  several  different  channels  began  to  permeate 
the  German  mind,  setting  up  in  it  intellectual  currents  of 
amazing  energy  and  fertility.  For  they  here  found,  it  is 
difficult  not  to  recognise,  not  merely  receptive  intelligence, 
hut  an  ingrained  way  of  apprehending  reality  to  which 
organic  conceptions  were  extraordinarily  congenial.  It 
was  not  for  nothing  that  while  in  mathematical  and  mech¬ 
anical  studies  Germany  still,  at  the  end  of  the  century, 
stood  decidedly  in  the  rear  of  France  and  England,  she 
had  anticipated  both  of  them  in  absorbing  and  making  her 
own  the  idealist  and  organic  thought  of  Greece.  The  more 
mechanical  conceptions  of  progress  impressed  her  little ; 
the  reactionary  suggestions  of  organism  appealed  only  to 
her  reactionary  minds;  but  on  progress  conceived  as 
organic  growth,  and  organism  conceived  as  perpetual 
advance,  all  the  idealistic  passion  of  the  race  fastened  as 
the  congenial  expression  of  its  temper  and  its  needs;  and 
“  Entwicldung development,  the  term  which  denoted 


58  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

that  organic  progress,  became  that  key-word  and  that 
watchword  which,  under  whatever  change  of  interpreta¬ 
tion,  it  has  ever  since  remained. 

Even  in  the  study  of  Nature,  it  was  the  more  organic 
classes  of  phenomena  which  most  powerfully  allured  the 
German  intellect.  Here,  confessedly,  philosophy,  a 
cloudy  pillar,  led  infant  science  into  a  wilderness  of  illu¬ 
sion.  Nevertheless,  its  guidance  was  not  wholly  mischie¬ 
vous;  its  too  spiritual  interpretations  of  the  mystery  of 
growth  stood  in  the  way  of  too  material  ones,  and  however 
abortive  as  solutions  of  the  problem,  at  least  kept  its  real 
complexity  in  full  view.  Johannes  Muller,  “  the  father 
of  physiology,”  was  a  Moses  whom  the  cloudy  pillar  led  to 
the  verge  of  the  Promised  Land ;  he  furnished  the  premises 
from  which  the  modern  school  of  physiologists,  in  the 
words  of  one  of  its  chiefs,  merely  drew  the  conclusions. 
It  is  no  accident  that  while,  as  regards  mathematics  and 
physics,  Germany  merely  took  a  brilliant,  if  tardy,  share 
in  the  scientific  activities  of  France  and  England,  biology 
is,  in  Huxley’s  words,  “  a  German  science.”  1 

Applied  to  the  immeasurably  more  complex  phenomena 
of  Man,  evolutionary  conceptions  had  yet  greater  possi¬ 
bilities  both  of  discovery  and  of  illusion.  The  author  of 
the  most  magnificent  of  these  applications,  Hegel, 
operated  with  a  theory  of  evolution  so  uncompromisingly 
spiritual  as  gravely  to  prejudice  the  mass  of  pregnant 
thought  and  observation  which  his  powerful  and  many- 
sided  intellect  threw  out  by  the  way.  To  resolve  the  entire 
growth  of  humanity  into  the  unfolding,  by  inevitable 
steps,  under  infinite  forms,  of  a  timeless  spirit,  was  to 
invest  it  with  a  totality  both  more  impressive  to  the 
imagination  and  nearer  to  the  rich  concrete  detail  of 
history  than  had  ever  been  approached  before.  The  Ency- 

1.  Du  Bois  Reymond,  quoted  by  Merz,  Hist,  of  Thought  in  Nineteenth 
Century,  i,  195.  The  decisive  step  in  biology  was  made  by  Schleiden’s 
discovery  of  the  cell-structure  of  plants  in  1838. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  59 

clopsedist  and  Humanist  cosmopolitanisms  of  the  previous 
ago  were  too  deeply  imbued  with  somewhat  abstract  ideals 
of  perfection  to  bo  just  to  all  the  phases  of  the  past;  but  in 
the  plastic  and  Protean  transformations  of  the  Hegelian 
idea  the  clashing  antagonisms  of  age  and  nation  found  a 
common  shelter  and  a  common  significance,  like  that 
which  belongs  to  the  jarring  thoughts  of  the  same  mind. 
The  same  Protean  Idea  brought  into  organic  inter-relation 
apparently  unconnected  sides  of  civilisation,  disclosing 
itself,  variously  disguised,  in  art,  in  religion,  in  science, 
in  custom  and  institution,  in  the  State.  The  logical 
mechanism  of  Hegel’s  synthesis  has  long  ago  broken  down ; 
the  framework  of  his  “  shelter”  is  sapped;  but  over  large 
portions  of  his  vast  field  his  logic  merely  provided  a  clue 
to  brilliant  intuitions  and  solid  discoveries,  which 
remained  when  the  clue  was  withdrawn.  His  sesthetics 
and  his  politics,  in  particular, are  still  to  be  reckoned  with; 
and  no  one  can  mistake  the  part  which  they  have  played, 
respectively,  in  shaping  two  of  the  most  striking  English 
books  of  our  generation :  Mr.  Bradley’s  Shahsperean 
Tragedy  and  Mr.  Bosanquet’s  Philosophical  Theory  of  the 
State.  And  of  the  pregnant  ideas  which  emerged  from 
his  method  itself,  and  the  value  of  which  is  not  neutral¬ 
ised  by  the  ease  with  which  this  may  be  abused,  these  two 
may  be  specified  :  First,  that  relative  worth  and  truth 
belong  to  every  serious  cause ;  to  opposed  positions  in  poli¬ 
tics,  to  conflicting  creeds  in  religion.  And  secondly,  the 
profound  conception  that  true  growth  involves  a  kind  of 
death,  the  abnegation  of  a  lower  self  that  the  higher  may 
arise.  The  seed  must  perish  as  seed  in  order  to  survive 
as  w'heat ;  the  child  must  lose  its  naive  innocence  before  it 
can  reach  the  genuine  goodness  which  rests  upon  know¬ 
ledge  and  mastery  of  evil.  But  all  that  is  valuable  in  the 
seed  survives  in  the  wheat,  and  all  that  is  valuable  in  the 
innocence  survives  in  the  goodness ;  and  whatever  tenacity 
has  been  shown  in  the  Nineteenth  Century,  in  regions  far 
beyond  the  control  of  dogmatic  theology,  by  the  faith  in 


60  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

the  permanence  of  spiritual  values  is  due  not  a  little  to 
what  a  philosophic  historian  of  quite  another  school  has 
called  the  most  magnificent  attempt  ever  made  to  extend 
the  law  of  the  conservation  of  force  and  of  worth  to  the 
spiritual  sphere.  1  And  this  same  historian,  Hoffding, 
has  since,  in  a  remarkable  book,  declared  the  conservation 
of  spiritual  values  to  he  the  central  problem  of  religion.  2 

But  more  direct  and  on  the  whole  more  signal  service 
was  done  to  the  idealism  which  finds  expression  in  religion, 
by  Hegel’s  great  contemporary  Friedrich  Schleiermacher. 
In  the  memorable  kt  Addresses  on  religion  to  the  cultured 
among  those  who  disdain  it,"  delivered  in  1799,  he  sought 
to  reconcile  the  culture  of  his  time  with  religion.  But  it 
was  with  a  religion  so  transformed  by  philosophic  think¬ 
ing,  so  enriched  with  cultural  elements,  and  so  boldly 
disengaged  from  the  obstructions  of  dogma,  that  his  claim 
was  no  longer  difficult,  from  the  side  of  culture,  to  admit, 
when  he  declared  religion  to  be  the  central  power  which 
can  alone  give  organic  unity  and  harmony  to  all  the 
complex  activities  of  civilised  man.  To  feel  in  all  life 
the  indwelling  infinity,  to  consecrate  every  moment  with 
the  light  of  eternity,  this  was  for  him  the  secret  which 
gives  totality  to  life.  It  at  least  dissolved,  for  his  genera¬ 
tion,  the  barren  antagonism  of  reason  and  the  super¬ 
natural.  And  by  laying  the  essence  of  religion  in  feeling, 
and  finding  the  worth  of  doctrinal  conceptions  simply  in 
their  capacity  to  symbolise  emotion,  a  capacity  they  retain 
even  when  their  claims  to  logical  value  have  been  shat¬ 
tered  by  criticism,  he  laid  the  foundation  of  a  deeper  than 
doctrinal  unity  in  religion  and  in  the  Church.  And  every 
variety  of  religious  thought  in  Germany,  from  the 
extremest  Lutheran  orthodoxy  to  the  advanced  criticism 
of  a  Strauss,  has  owed  to  the  synthetic  genius  of  Schleier¬ 
macher  added  intellectual  substance  and  psychological 
truth . 

1.  Hoffding,  Hist,  of  Modern  Philosophy,  ii,  181. 

2.  Ib.,  The  Philosophy  of  Religion. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  61 

With  the  decay  of  the  vast  speculative  systems  of  the 
early  century,  the  organic  conceptions  which  had  played 
so  large  a  part  in  them  inevitably  suffered  some  discredit. 
Had  they  been  merely  theoretic  doctrines,  entertained 
by  the  intellect,  they  would  have  been  dismissed  with  other 
theories.  But  they  attached  themselves,  as  has  been  said, 
to  something  more  inveterate  than  intellectual  conviction ; 
and  the  way  of  apprehending  fact  for  which  they  had  pro¬ 
vided  an  alluring  if  not  finally  adequate  formula, 
remained,  subtly  contributing  to  mould  both  the  methods 
and  the  aims  of  the  sciences  which  dealt  with  human 
society  and  human  history.  It  contributed  to  keep  before 
the  eyes  of  the  scholar  and  the  investigator  in  these  studies 
a  scientific  ideal,  then,  and  perhaps  still,  far  more  habi¬ 
tually  approached  in  Germany  than  elsewhere ;  an  ideal 
equally  removed  from  matter-of-fact  empiricism  and  from 
shallow  generalisation.  The  empiricism  which  prides 
itself  on  sticking  to  facts  and  disdaining  theory  and  which 
for  better,  or  worse,  makes  many  English  books  a  jumble  of 
unorganised  observation,  rests  upon  a  no  less  elliptical 
view  of  reality  than  that  of  the  doctrinaire,  more  common 
in  France,  who  thinks  in  large  formulas  and  brilliant 
apergus.  The  one  treats  the  individual  object  of  his 
scrutiny  as  an  aggregate  of  loosely  connected  units,  each  of 
which  can  be  completely  studied  in  isolation.  The  other 
treats  them  as  points  in  a  rigid  and  symmetrical  pattern, 
each  completely  determined  when  the  whole  is  known.  No 
one  now  imagines  either  of  these  implicit  conceptions  to  be 
adequate  to  the  rich  complexity,  the  vital  inter-related- 
ness,  of  human  society,  or  of  social  growth.  The  concep¬ 
tion  of  society  as  an  organism  was  doubtless,  in  its  turn, 
too  simple  and  too  summary.  None  the  less,  the  way  of 
apprehending  social  and  historic  fact  which  grew  up  under 
the  fertilising  influence  of  organic  ideas  in  Germany  was 
at  that  time  wholly  salutary,  and  had  immense  and  endur¬ 
ing  results.  The  individual  object  was  subjected  to  a 


62  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

more  intimate  scrutiny  than  liad  satisfied  the  empiricist, 
because  it  was  seen  not  in  isolation  but  in  vital  touch  with 
the  rest,  reciprocally  determining  and  determined.  And 
this  vital  grasp  of  detail  itself  prepared  the  way  for  a  pre¬ 
sentment  of  the  character  and  coherence  of  a  whole  polity 
or  period  as  clear  as  any  achieved  by  the  masters  of 
generalisation  :  only  it  was  the  clearness  not  of  the  formula 
or  a  phrase,  but  of  an  expressive  portrait,  elicited  by  an 
infinitv  of  detailed  strokes. 

t j 

It  was  more  especially  as  applied  to  history  that  organic 
analogies  thus  bore  fruit.  They  were  not  altogether  true, 
but  they  drew  into  prominence  the  neglected  part  of  the 
truth.  History  contains  a  good  deal  of  mere  accident, 
something  even  of  sheer  chaos ;  but  these  aspects  of  it  had 
been  abundantly  represented  in  the  historical  writing  of 
the  past :  it  was  not  amiss  that  it  should  be  restudied  in 
the  light  of  a  conviction  that  apparent  chaos  was  cosmos 
in  disguise;  that  every  apparent  new  beginning  was  the 
climax  of  a  long  preparation,  every  revolution  the  simple 
disclosure  of  slowly  accumulated  forces ;  and  every 
feature,  every  activity,  of  a  given  social  community  vitally 

interrelated  with  everv  other.  It  was  not  amiss  that  “  the 

«/ 

Renaissance,”  for  instance,  should  be  pushed  further  and 
further  back,  till  some  modern  scholars  deny  its  very  exist¬ 
ence,  and  others  declare  that  it  was  there  all  the  time.  It 
was  not  amiss  that  the  frontiers,  the  “  hard  and  fast  lines  ” 
as  we  say,  that  delimitate  those  old-established  provinces 
— Ancient  Times,  Modern  Times,  the  Middle  Ages,  the 
Dark  Ages — should  dissolve  under  the  stress  of  imperious 
continuities.  What  is  certain  is,  that  these  assumptions, 
if  not  wholly  true,  were  enormously  fruitful  in  discovery. 
They  impelled  to  a  scrutiny  of  precisely  those  obscure  rudi¬ 
ments  of  facts  which  being  neither  bits  of  an  interesting 
story,  nor  details  in  a  telling  picture,  escaped  the  atten¬ 
tions  both  of  the  chronicler  and  of  the  picturesque  histo¬ 
rian,  until  at  length  the  Grimm  or  the  Savigny  or  the 
Niebuhr  showed  what  they  meant.  The  famous  contro- 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  63 

versy  between  Savigny  and  Thibaut 1  upon  the  nature  and 
origin  of  law,  like  that  between  Geotfroy  de  Saint-Hilaire 
and  Cuvier  2  about  the  classification  of  animals,  was  thus 
a  conflict  not  merely  between  one  doctrine  and  another, 
but  between  the  spirit  of  history  and  the  spirit  of  abstract 
theory;  and  the  victory,  enduring  as  well  as  immediate, 
went  in  both  cases  to  the  champion  of  evolution.  Savigny’s 
demonstration  that  the  Roman  law  was  the  prolonged 
growth  of  centuries,  bearing  everywhere  the  impress  of 
Roman  institutions  and  traditions,  and  not  a  mere  applica¬ 
tion  of  the  theory  of  Natural  Right  to  practice,  made  an 
epoch  in  the  intellectual  history  of  Europe.  The  evolu¬ 
tionary  conception  of  national  life  was  one  of  the  springs 
of  the  fuller  consciousness  and  more  intimate  instinct 
of  nationality  which  has  in  the  Nineteenth  Century  pro¬ 
duced  so  many  historical  romances  and  so  many  changes 
in  the  map.  Napoleon,  trampling  on  nationality;  Sir 
Waiter  Scott,  investing  it  with  imaginative  charm;  Wil¬ 
helm  von  Humboldt  interpreting  national  character 
through  the  national  speech;  Fichte,  summoning  the 
German  nation  to  fulfil  the  destiny  to  which  its  history 
and  spiritual  heritage  pointed ; — all  these  concurred  :  but 
it  was  in  minds  permeated  with  the  evolutionary  concep¬ 
tions  of  national  growth  brilliantly  applied  by  Wolf  and 
Eichhorn,  by  Savigny,  by  Grimm,  by  Boeckh,  that  the 
temper  of  German  nationality  took  shape. 

But  a  gulf,  rarely  passed,  and  still  of  formidable  dimen- 

1.  The  controversy  was  provoked  by  Thibaut’s  demand  for  a  civic 
code,  constructed  on  the  principles  of  Natural  Law.  Baron  Carl  v. 
Savigny  replied  with  his  pamphlet  Vom  Beruf  unserer  Zeit  fwr 
Gesetzgebung  und  Rechtswissenschaft  (1814),  restating  the  doctrine  of 
Montesquieu  that  laws  grow  organically  out  of  social  conditions ;  that 
the  legislator’s  task  can  then  only  be  to  sift  and  order  the  legislation 
already  in  existence.  Cf.  Paul,  Gesch.  d.  germcinischen  Phil.,  p.  65  (in 
his  Grundriss ). 

2.  July,  1830,  in  the  Paris  academy.  The  fall  of  the  Bourbons,  which 
happened  at  the  same  moment,  was  for  Goethe,  as  is  well  known,  of 
quite  secondary  interest  in  comparison. 


64  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

sions  to-day,  has  always  divided  the  great  specialists  of 
scholarship  from  the  mass  of  the  nation ;  and  the  permeat¬ 
ing  process  was  immensely  furthered  by  a  brilliant  but 
learned  literary  mediator.  No  one  probably  did  more  to 
quicken  the  national  consciousness  of  the  generation  which 
was  about  to  create  the  empire  than  Gustav  Freytag.  The 
title  of  his  most  famous  hook,  “  Pictures  from  the  German 
Past/’  does  slight  justice  to  its  quality.  It  is,  in  fact,  a 
biography  of  the  German  people,  as  reflected  in  the 
development  of  its  customs  and  institutions,  its  beliefs  and 
its  ideals,  its  master  spirits  and  its  representative  types. 
In  the  closing  pages  Freytag  set  forth  with  enthusiastic 
emphasis  this  idee  mere  of  his  hook.  “  Like  the  indivi¬ 
dual  man,  the  people  evolves  its  intellectual  content  in  the 
course  of  time,  furthered  or  impeded,  with  character  and 
originality,  hut  on  a  vaster  and  sublimer  scale.  A  people 
consists  of  millions  of  individuals,  and  its  life  flows  on 
through  millions  of  souls;  hut  the  co-operation,  conscious 
and  unconscious,  of  millions  creates  an  intellectual  content 
in  which  the  individual’s  share  is  often  for  us  impercep¬ 
tible.  .  .  .  Religion,  language,  custom,  law,  polity,  are 
for  us  no  longer  results  of  individual  effort,  but  organic 
creations  of  a  higher  life,  which  always  manifests  itself 
through  individuals,  and  always  comprehends  the  intellec¬ 
tual  contents  of  individuals  in  one  mighty  whole.  .  .  . 
And  while  the  individual  calculates  and  chooses,  the  inner 
force  of  the  people  works  continually  with  the  obscure  com¬ 
pulsion  of  an  elemental  power,  and  its  intellectual  pro¬ 
ducts  often  strikingly  resemble  the  silently  creative  pro¬ 
cesses  of  Nature,  which  evolve  the  stalk,  leaves,  and 
blossoms  of  a  plant  from  its  seed.”  1  This  conception  is 
familiar  enough  to  us  to-day;  but  rarely  has  it  been 
applied  to  the  life  of  any  nation  with  so  vivid  a  sense  of 
concrete  facts.  We  watch  the  people  in  its  daily  course, 

1.  Freytag,  Bilder  aus  der  d.  Vergangenhett.  2nd  ed.,  1860,  p.  406f. 
In  later  editions  this  imagery  was  greatly  qualified. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  65 

buying  and  selling,  eating  and  drinking,  fighting,  and 
making  love  ;  the  journal  of  a  Court  lady,  or  of  a  sea  cap¬ 
tain,  makes  us  breathe  the  very  air  of  the  boudoir,  or  of  the 
Baltic ;  while  ever  and  anon  an  incisive  comment  throws 
all  this  brilliant  detail  into  its  place  in  the  total  picture. 
Not  even  Carlyle  understood  more  profoundly  the  supreme 
exaltations  and  agonies  of  nations.  Untouched  by  Pro¬ 
testant  fanaticism,  he  saw  in  Luther’s  Reformation  a 
colossal  and  impassive  effort  of  the  national  soul  to  trans¬ 
form  all  life  by  a  deep  apprehension  of  the  Eternal;  an 
effort  which  calling  out  its  utmost  powers  to  the  point  of 
utter  exhaustion,  delayed  for  centuries  its  political  concen¬ 
tration.  Untouched  by  political  absolutism,  he  saw  in 
the  militant  and  organised  Prussia  of  the  great  Frederick 
the  striving  of  a  great  people,  torn  by  discord,  towards  the 
political  unity  which  it  finally  received  from  Bismarck. 
Yet  the  figures  of  these  heroes  themselves,  far  from  being 
overpowered  by  the  background  of  national  storm  and 
stress,  are  drawn  with  the  realistic  precision  of  a  Velas¬ 
quez;  as  has  been  said,  you  are  inclined  to  brush  away 
the  snuff  on  Frederick’s  waistcoat.  As  for  Luther,  you 
hear  the  very  tones  of  his  mighty  voice,  passionate,  jesting, 
denouncing,  heartening,  and  witness  the  inmost  pulsing  of 
his  infantine-Titanie  soul. 

Few  perhaps  of  the  historians  of  a  severer  school  who 
were  Freytag’s  contemporaries  would  have  invoked  that 
comparison  of  national  life  to  a  plant.  Romanticism, 
which  saw  everywhere  in  history  mysterious  and  instinc¬ 
tive  process,  had  faded  into  the  background ;  and  its  repu¬ 
diation  was  hastened  by  the  very  advance  in  the  national 
self-consciousness  which  it  had  done  so  much  to  further. 
The  revolution,  only  outwardly  suppressed,  of  forty-eight, 
began  a  new  epoch.  A  people  roused  to  its  own  import¬ 
ance,  concerned  to  control,  or  to  influence  the  control  of, 
its  own  fortunes,  loud  with  discussion  of  statesmen  and  of 
policies,  and  no  longer  inclined,  with  two  of  the  greatest 
Germans  of  1806,  Goethe  and  Hegel,  to  turn  away  from  a 


E 


66  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

supreme  national  crisis  to  metaphysics  or  to  poetry, — for 
this  Germany  of  the  fifties  and  sixties,  the  instinctive  and 
gradual  processes  of  organic  growth  were  no  longer  an 
obvious  analogy.  And  the  brilliant  group  of  historians 
who  emerge  during  these  years, — a  Droysen,  a  Mommsen, 
a  von  Sybel,  a  Treitschke, — exhibit  this  changed  spirit  in 
the  energy  of  their  political  interests,  in  their  acute,  even 
passionate,  participation  in  the  problems  of  historic  state¬ 
craft,  not  merely  as  involved  in  the  scientific  study  of  the 
past,  but  as  of  vital  interest  and  relevance  for  the  citizens 
of  to-day.  They  sought,  as  one  of  them,  v.  Sybel,  said  in 
his  famous  lecture  on  the  “  position  of  modern  German 
historic  writing  ”  (1856),  they  sought  “  to  judge  the  states¬ 
man  according  to  the  actual  conditions  of  his  art,  and  to 
measure  this  art  always  by  the  standard  of  human  and 
eternal  right.”  1  Yet  with  all  this  the  influence  of  evolu¬ 
tionary  conceptions  persisted.  The  inner  continuity  and 
the  inner  coherence  of  the  life  of  a  nation  were  tacitly 
postulated.  The  Roman  History  of  Mommsen  (1854-6), 
the  most  brilliant  single  achievement  of  German  historical 
writing,  is  a  grandiose  portrait  of  the  Roman  people, 
elicited  with  consummate  skill  from  an  infinity  of  details. 
Law  and  ritual,  coinage  and  field-measuring,  legends  and 
superstitions,  proverbs  and  personal  anecdotes,  become 
expressive  signs  of  the  immensely  potent  national  life 
which  ramified  through  these  several  organs,  resisting  with 
tenacity  the  intrusion  of  alien  influence.  Read,  for 
instance,  the  luminous  chapter  in  which  he  allows  us  to 
watch,  as  eye-witnesses,  the  lofty  speculative  philosophies 
of  the  Stoic  and  the  Epicurean  converting  themselves  help¬ 
lessly  into  vulgar  superstition  and  vulgar  luxury  in  the 
grip  of  a  race  which  “speculated  only  in  stocks.”  Rome 
is  not  Mommsen’s  hero;  her  portrait  is  Rembrandtesque, 

1.  Quoted  by  R.  M.  Meyer,  Die  deutsche  Literatur  dcs  neunzehnten 
Jahrhunderts,  p.  385.  The  present  essay  owes  much  incidental  sugges¬ 
tion  to  this  brilliant,  if  somewhat  disproportioned,  book. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  67 

with  the  shadows  even  fiercely  underlined.  His  hero  is 
the  mighty  statesman  and  soldier  at  whose  fall  he  laid 
down  his  pen,  as  if  “  there  was  nothing  more  significant 
beneath  the  wandering  moon,” — “  the  first,  the  only, 
imperator,  Caesar.”  But  Caesar,  the  supreme  Homan,  was 
made  possible  by  Rome. 

When,  three  years  after  Mommsen’s  great  book,  Fer¬ 
dinand  Gregorovius  issued  the  first  volume  of  his  History 
of  the  City  of  Rome  in  the  Middle  Ages  (1859),  he  was  in 
some  sense  merely  continuing  Mommsen  within  a  limited 
sphere.  But  he  was  in  reality  initiating  a  new  kind  of 
life-history,  the  history  of  the  Town.  That  a  Town  has  a 
biology  of  its  own  has  been,  since  Freeman  and  Green,  a 
familiar  idea  to  us.  But  it  was  not  in  England,  with  its 
old-established  central  governments,  that  the  idea  was 
likely  to  arise ;  and  we  know  what  the  local  history  of  our 
old  antiquaries  was  like.  Germany,  on  the  other  hand, 
with  its  crowd  of  quasi-independent  cities,  each  in  the 
main  conditioned  by  its  own  habitat,  thriving  by  its  own 
stamina,  ruined  by  its  own  decay,  was  the  natural  birth¬ 
place  of  Town-biology.  Like  so  much  else  in  the  German 
Nineteenth  Century,  it  is  foreshadowed  in  Goethe.1  When 
he  travelled  among  the  old  towns  of  the  Rhineland  or 
Suabia  he  would  climb  to  some  point  of  vantage  from 
which  he  could  look  down  on  street  and  market  place ;  or 
wander  round  the  walls,  noting  the  quality  of  the  masonry 
and  the  temper  of  the  mortar,  like  Browning’s  poet  of 
Yalladolid.  Out  of  such  keen  and  loving  interpretation 
grew  the  luminous  and  beautiful  rendering  of  a  little  town 
in  Hermann  und  Dorothea , — in  its  secluded  side-valley 
near  the  Rhine,  with  its  pleasant  vineyards  and  fruit 
trees ;  surely  the  first  town  in  poetry  whose  economy  we 
perfectly  understand.  That  little  town,  where  trading  and 
farming  go  hand  in  hand,  is  the  true  starting-point  not 

1.  Cf.  his  Reise  in  die  Schweiz ,  1797;  the  notes  on  Frankfurt, 
Heidelberg,  Heilbronn,  Stuttgart. 


68  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

only  of  books  like  Gregorovius’s,  whose  eye  for  localities 
was  as  fine  as  Goethe’s  own,  but  of  such  massive  studies  of 
the  growth  and  structure  of  town  governments,  as  the  great 
Verfassungsgeschichte  of  Georg  Waitz,  the  oldest  and 
most  distinguished  pupil  of  Ranke. 

But  the  field  in  which  evolutionary  conceptions  were 
most  fruitful  was  the  history  of  ideas ;  and  of  periods,  like 
the  Renaissance  or  the  passage  from  the  Eighteenth  to  the 
Nineteenth  Century,  in  which  vast  and  complex  trans¬ 
formations  of  thought  and  feeling  impressed  themselves 
deeply  on  civilised  society.  Here,  once  more,  it  is  the 
union  of  consummate  mastery  of  the  facts  with  brilliant 
power  of  co-ordinating  them,  which  made  the  finest 
German  work  of  this  kind  unapproached  until,  after  1870, 
France,  and  more  slowly  England,  began  to  learn  the 
lesson.  Such  work  was  Zeller’s  monumental  history  of 
Greek  philosophy;  such  Kuno  Fischer’s  History  of  Euro¬ 
pean  philosophy  at  large;  such,  the  colossal  study  of  cor¬ 
poration  ( Genossenschaft ),  in  which  Otto  Gierke  throws 
into  luminous  order  the  perplexed  wilderness  of  the  poli¬ 
tical  ideas  of  mediaeval  society.1  Such  work,  covering  not 
a  special  province  only  but  the  whole  compass  of  the  intel¬ 
lectual  and  social  culture  of  an  age,  was  the  finished 
masterpiece  of  Jakob  Burckliardt :  The  Civilisation  of  the 
Renaissance  in  Italy  (1860).  The  last  named,  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  of  the  masterpieces  of  German  erudition, 
was  exactly  contemporaneous  with  Buckle’s  History  of 
Civilisation  (1859-62),  a  book  of  grandiose  conception, 
characteristically  English  in  its  strength  and  in  its  weak¬ 
ness.  Burckhardt  makes  no  pretence  to  Buckle’s 
vast  generalisations ;  but  he  comprehends  civilisation 
better  because  he  comprehends  man  better;  and  while 
Buckle’s  powerful  analysis  tends  to  reduce  human  history 

1.  A  section  of  this  great  work  was  translated  by  Professor  Maitland, 
under  the  title  :  Political  Ideas  of  the  Middle  Ages,  with  a  valuable 
introduction.  The  latter  gives  an  illuminating  account  of  the  history 
of  the  study  of  law  and  of  legal  theory  in  modern  Germany. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  69 

to  a  function  of  economics,  Burckhardt  reproduces  the 
great  age  he  handles,  in  all  the  teeming  complexity  of  its 
ideals,  its  dreams,  its  business,  its  love,  its  hate,  its 
glorious  art,  its  crafty  politics ;  an  age  which  had  “  dis¬ 
covered  the  world  ”  and  had  “  discovered  man,”  and  was 
intoxicated  with  the  discovery ;  for  the  doomed  descendant 
of  Adam  was  now  seen  to  be  a  creature  of  infinite  possi¬ 
bilities,  in  action  like  an  angel,  in  apprehension  like  a  god. 
If  Buckle  was  excessively  pre-occupied  with  man  as  he 
eats  and  drinks,  Burckhardt,  far  more  just  to  all  the  con¬ 
stituents  of  civilisation,  yet  made  it  turn  essentially  upon 
what  he  thinks  and  feels.  No  one  better  exemplifies,  in 
its  most  salutary  effects,  the  operation  of  that  third  con¬ 
trolling  bias  of  the  German  Nineteenth  Century,  which  I 
have  ventured  to  call  the  'prestige  of  Mind. 

YI. 

We  here  enter  the  inner  sanctuary,  it  is  hardly  hazar¬ 
dous  to  affirm,  of  the  German  spirit ;  the  scene  of  its  most 
glorious  dreams,  of  its  most  imperishable  extravagances, 
of  its  most  unassailable  achievements.  By  the  prestige  of 
mind  I  mean  that  the  value  attached  to  thought  as  thought, 
to  ideas  as  ideas,  the  estimate  of  their  scope  and  potency, 
as  elements  of  experience,  is  extraordinarily  high ;  and  that 
the  part  which  they  in  consequence  have  played  in  modern 
German  civilisation  is  extraordinarily  large.  We  speak, 
half  ironically,  of  the  people  of  thinkers,  of  the  land  of 
Bildung,  and  when  we  find  their  learning  oppressive  we 
like  to  remember  that  they  evolve  their  camels  from  their 
inner  consciousness.  And  this  great  and  noble  confidence 
in  mind  has  inevitably  had  some  drawbacks. 

In  art  and  literature  the  authority  and  the  fascination  of 
ideas  and  ideals  have  sometimes  exercised  a  dangerous 
spell,  impairing  the  willingness,  and  perhaps  also  the 
power,  to  see  and  to  render  with  naked  veracity  the  unideal 


70  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

sides  of  life.  Nature  has  not  often,  under  such  condi¬ 
tions,  taken  the  pen  from  the  hand  of  the  German  artist 
and  written  for  him  “  with  her  own  sheer  bare  impene¬ 
trable  power.”  The  great  realism  of  Tolstoy,  of  Flaubert, 
of  Dostoievsky,  made  little  headway  in  Germany  till  the 
last  quarter  of  the  century.  The  gross,  material  humour 
of  the  Porter  in  Macbeth  was  long  replaced  on  the  German 
stage  by  Schiller’s  lofty  morning  hymn.1  The  healthy 
muscular  animation  of  Fielding’s  books,  which  provoked 
Tain©  to  the  protest  that  if  there  are  boxers  and  fighters 
there  are  also  poets  and  artists,  would  have  been  a  strange 
phenomenon  in  Germany. 

Hardly  any  German  had  seen  harsh  and  grinding  misery 
as  Hauptmann  saw  it  in  Die  Weber,  fewer  still  had  dared 
to  paint  it ;  even  Hauptmann’s  miserable  homes  are  apt 
to  have  openings  into  a  world  of  marvel  and  eternal  beauty, 
where  you  hear  the  song  of  mountain  elves  or  Hannele’s 
angel  chorus.  And  as  Hauptmann  escapes  from  realism 
into  folklore,  so  Auerbach  half  a  century  before  tempered 
its  harshness  with  the  glamour  of  Spinozan  wisdom  which 
invests  his  little  barefoot  maid. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  kind  of  sensibility,  this  shrink¬ 
ing  from  the  rawness  of  an  atmosphere  denuded  of  the 
perfume  of  culture  and  the  zest  of  ideas,  becomes  a 
singular  virtue  when  culture  and  ideas  are  the  business  in 
hand .  And  these  are  in  fact  a  frequent  pre-occupation  of 
the  German  novel.  Goethe  in  Wilhelm  Meister  had 
created  the  romance  of  culture;  in  the  Wahlverivandt- 
schaften ,  the  problem-romance.  Keller,  in  whom  the  eye 
for  the  primitive  and  the  elemental  was  associated  with  the 
finest  artistic  sense,  produced  in  his  Griine  Heinrich  an 
original  and  beautiful  “  culture  ”  romance  for  his  own 
generation.  And  Paul  Heyse,  inheriting  Goethe’s  fasti¬ 
dious  aestheticism  with  more  than  his  novelistic  art,  pro- 

1.  This  morning  hymn  was  provided  by  Schiller,  in  his  adaptation  of 
Macbeth  for  the  German  stage.  Schiller  has  been  the  principal  strong¬ 
hold  of  this  somewhat  shallow  aestheticism  in  Germany. 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  71 

duced  a  vast  gallery  of  story,  hardly  matched  for  mastery 
of  all  the  sources  of  noble  and  beautiful  effect. 

In  the  critical  interpretation,  again,  of  art  and  litera¬ 
ture  the  fascination  of  ideas  has  had  a  like  twofold  effect. 
It  is  hardly  to  be  denied  that  a  large  body  of  German  criti¬ 
cism  has  suffered  from  the  fault  of  being  too  intellectual ; 
of  fastening  with  absorbed  interest  upon  whate ,  cr  offers  a 
problem,  and  neglecting,  often  with  disdain,  the  critic’s 
primary  task  of  defining  an  impression.  “  JEsthetic 
criticism  ”  was  for  long  a  damning  phrase  on  German  lips. 
The  Nemesis  whereof  is  the  comparative  rarity  of  the 
highest  quality  of  such  criticism  among  the  countrymen 
of  Lessing  and  Goethe. 

The  work  achieved,  nevertheless,  within  its  chosen 
sphere  by  the  critical  intellect  of  Germany,  has  been  enor¬ 
mous,  and  much  of  it  is  of  enduring  value.  The  discovery 
and  analysis  of  “  sources  ”  and  of  “  motives  ”  is  virtually  a 
German  science.  That  vast  proportion  of  the  work  of 
every  artist  which  is  made  up  of  tradition,  manner, 
imitative  adaptation,  this  at  least  has  been,  in  countless 
examples,  explored  and  defined  with  inexhaustible 
patience  and  admirable  precision.  And  if  we  miss  the 
subtle  phrase  which  seizes  the  last  nuance  of  a  particular 
aesthetic  impression,  the  analysis  of  the  aesthetic  conscious¬ 
ness  itself,  has  been  pursued  during  the  Nineteenth  Cen¬ 
tury  with  enormous  wealth  of  intellectual  power. 
“  ^Esthetics,”  too,  is  essentially,  for  better  or  worse,  a 
German  study.1 

But  these  and  other  similarly  implicit  naive  confessions 
of  the  faith  in  mind  belong  merely  to  the  vestibule  of  the 
sublime  temple  of  that  faith,  the  Idealism  of  the  successors 
of  Kant.  Germany  is  the  home  of  philosophic  idealism 

1.  In  the  recent  literature  of  ^Esthetic  theory  a  foremost  place  belongs 
to  the  work  of  Volkelt,  System  der  sEsthetik  and  Msthetfrk  des 
Tragischen.  Among  books  of  a  more  limited  scope  may  be  mentioned 
Viktor  Hehn’s  Gedanken  iiber  Goethe  and  W.  Dilthey’s  Bausteine  einer 
/Esthetik,  both  of  the  highest  distinction. 


72  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

in  the  modern  world,  and  for  the  reason  that  her  people 
has  for  centuries  been  more  persistently  than  any  other 
haunted  by  the  call  of  spirit.  A  brooding  self-conscious¬ 
ness  emerges  early  in  their  history;  it  glimmers  in  the 
stubborn  individuality  of  the  primitive  tribesmen;  in  the 
passion  for  freedom,  so  finely  blent  in  them  with  the  joy  of 
faithful  service;  in  the  mysticism  which  so  early  infused 
an  intense  personal  note  into  the  large  abstractions  of 
Catholic  dogma.  At  the  supreme  moments  of  their  history 
this  self-consciousness  reveals  itself  with  astonishing  effect ; 
it  is  an  element  of  the  greatness  of  their  finest  and  choicest 
souls.  In  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach  it  appears  as  the 
child-like  absorption  in  the  goings-on  of  the  soul  which 
makes  his  Parsifal  the  first  psychological  romance;  in 
Luther,  as  the  passionate  assertion  of  the  power  of  the 
simplest  soul  to  receive  the  divine  grace ;  in  Leibniz,  as  the 
sense  of  something  unique  and  irreducible  in  personality, 
which  compelled  him,  against  all  the  bias  of  his  scientific 
genius,  to  except  it  from  the  reign  of  mechanical  law,  as  a 
fragment  of  the  infinite  mind  of  God.  A  hundred  years 
after  Leibniz,  the  conflict  with  the  mechanical  theory  of 
the  universe  which  so  long  perplexed  him  was,  for  Ger¬ 
many,  completely  and  triumphantly  settled;  in  the  words 
of  a  great  German  historian,  Karl  Lamprecht :  “  The 
rationalistic  conception  of  the  soul  as  a  blank  surface 
receiving  impressions  from  without  was  now  replaced  by 
that  of  an  unfathomable  ocean  containing  within  itself 
hidden  treasures  and  countless  wonders;  .  .  .  the  bars 
erected  between  man  and  the  rest  of  creation  were  torn 
down;  the  universe  was  a  living  organism,  and  man’s  part 
in  it  that  of  a  free  spiritual  agency  mysteriously  connected 
with  the  sources  of  all  life,  and  drawing  from  its  inmost 
self  the  assurance  of  an  ideal  world  underlying  all 
reality.” 

It  was  while  struggling,  with  the  help  of  Goethe  and 
Eichte,  towards  such  a  faith,  that  Carlyle  in  Leith  Walk 
defied  the  menacing  summons  of  the  Eternal  No;  it  was 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  73 

his  final  achievement  of  it  that  he  affirmed  in  the  Ever¬ 
lasting  Yea.1 

But  for  Carlyle  the  No,  however  successfully  defied,  was 
eternal;  some  irreducible  reluctant  stub  remained  in  the 
universe,  which  spirit  could  only  defeat,  and  not  destroy. 
“  Do  you  believe  in  the  devil  now  ?  ”  he  asked  Emerson  as 
they  paced  the  Strand  at  midnight.  The  magnificent  faith 
of  the  German  idealists  was  not  content  with  these  half¬ 
measures.  The  principle  of  their  universe,  whatever  it 
was,  had  to  annihilate,  or  else  to  penetrate  and  transform, 
everything  not  itself.  Hegel,  after  all  deductions  one  of 
the  mightiest  thinkers  of  all  time,  expelled  unreason  from 
existence  in  the  name  of  absolute  thought;  Eichte,  one  of 
the  noblest  and  most  heroic,  drove  from  the  sphere  of 
reality  whatever  did  not  bear  the  talisman  of  moral  will. 
And  in  the  doleful  universe  of  Schopenhauer  nothing  is 
ultimately  real  but  the  striving  of  insatiable  impulse, 
veiled  by  the  glamour  of  illusive  beauty.  Again  and  again 
a  like  sublime  assurance  of  mind  and  will  asserts  itself,  if 
in  less  metaphysical  accents.  With  the  Romantics,  to 
imagine  and  portray  beauty  was  alone  to  truly  live,  and 
the  world  where  men  acted  and  toiled  became  a  dim 
unhallowed  vestibule  of  the  studio,  where  they  dreamed 
and  painted.  The  genius  of  Wagner  drew  all  the  life  of 
his  time  into  the  compass  of  his  art,  but  only  to  proclaim 
that  music  was  the  explicit  truth  which  life  unconsciously 
embodied.  And  in  Wagner’s  most  brilliant  disciple  and 
fiercest  assailant,  Friedrich  Nietzsche,  the  prepossession  of 
mind  and  will  expanded  into  a  passion  for  personality ;  and 
state  and  church,  law  and  order,  crumbled  under  the  tread 
of  the  godlike  Uebermensch. 

It  is  easy  for  the  dispassionate  onlooker  to  ridicule  the 
fervour  of  these  intellectual  athletes  who  in  their  different 
ways  make  such  havoc  of  our  comfortable  conventions 
about  the  world  we  live  in.  The  practical-minded 


1.  Sartor  Resartus,  ii,  chap.  7  and  9. 


74  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

Englishman,  half-convinced  that  after  all  the  Germans  do 
some  things  better,  reflects  with  satisfaction  that  his  rules 
of  thumb,  whatever  their  defects,  at  least  never  persuaded 
him  that  Being  and  not-Being  are  the  same.  And  it  is 
true,  that  up  to  a  certain  point,  cool  commonsense  will 
always  have  the  better  of  the  impassioned  and  high-strung 
brain.  The  critic  is  more  versatile  than  the  artist,  and 
listens  with  a  smile  to  the  battles  of  opposite  schools,  con¬ 
scious  that  he  sees  the  good,  and  understands  the  error,  of 
both.  Yet  who  does  not  feel  that  impassioned  concentra¬ 
tion  gets,  in  the  last  resort,  to  the  deeper  truth  about  the 
whole  matter?  That,  if  it  is  profound  and  sincere,  it 
even  gets  the  better  of  its  own  initial  limitations?  And 
so,  these  seeming  negations  of  the  ordinary  world  con¬ 
tained,  in  reality,  the  promise  of  far-reaching  transforma¬ 
tions  of  it.  Every  one  of  these  soaring  idealisms,  which 
seem  so  like  wanton  indulgences  of  personal  idiosyncrasies, 
proves  to  be  charged  with  national  and  social  thinking. 
Fichte  was  chaffingly  styled  the  great  Ego  by  the  Weimar 
poets ;  but  after  Jena  it  was  the  ideas  of  the  great  Ego,  and 
not  theirs,  which  became  to  the  ruined  nation  the  trumpet 
of  a  prophecy. 

Fichte’s  “  Addresses  to  the  German  Nation  ”  (1807), 
given  in  Berlin,  almost  under  the  eyes  of  the  French  gar¬ 
rison,  resemble  in  their  occasion  those  great  outbursts  of 
Milton’s  Satan  in  the  first  stunning  moment  of  the  fall 
from  Paradise:  “What  tho’  the  field  be  lost?  All  is  not 
lost.”  But  the  resource  in  which  Satan  finds  help,  “the 
unconquerable  will,  and  study  of  revenge,  immortal  hate, 
and  courage  never  to  submit  or  yield,” — that  sublime  yet 
blank  and  negative  idealism,  was  not  Fichte’s.  What  he 
turned  to  was  the  spiritual  heritage  of  the  German  people. 
The  sense  of  nationality,  elsewhere  so  largely  grounded 
upon  stubborn  egoisms  and  ancestral  feud,  was  thus  in 
Germany,  as  I  said  at  the  outset,  to  an  amazing  degree  the 
creation  of  inspirations  at  once  historic  and  ethical,  the 
consciousness  of  fellowship  among  those  who  inherited  the 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  75 

German  tongue,  the  consciousness  of  an  ideal  task  which 
had  to  be  achieved  in  and  through  the  conditions  of 
German  life  in  the  German  land. 

And  so  even  Schopenhauer's  egoism  provided  a  sanc¬ 
tuary  for  weary  humanity  in  the  serenity  of  Art;  even 
Nietzsche’s  despotism  of  the  “  Overman  was  but  the 
necessary  preliminary  to  the  ideal  Over-humanity,  which 
he  foresaw.  The  decay  of  the  grandiose  structures  of 
idealism  brought  with  it,  no  doubt,  a  decided  decline  in 
the  prestige  of  mind.  The  vast  development  of  the 
Natural  Sciences  after  1840  was  both  cause  and  conse¬ 
quence  of  a  revival  of  mechanical  conceptions.  Materialism 
became  in  the  ’50’s  the  ruling  doctrine  of  the  educated 
world.  But  nowhere  was  its  sway  so  brief  as  in  Germany. 
The  study  of  mind  was  resumed  on  a  lower  plane,  with 
more  stringent  methods ;  psychology  took  the  place  of  meta¬ 
physics,  and  psychology  struck  at  the  roots  of  materialism 
with  yet  more  deadly  effect.  The  famous  book  in  which 
Friedrich  Lange,  in  1865,  wrote  its  history  reduced  it 
henceforth,  as  a  philosophical  creed,  to  a  merely  historical 
significance.  And  the  most  striking  feature  in  the 
development  of  the  mental  sciences  during  the  remainder 
of  the  century  is  the  steady  growth  in  the  scope  of  psycho¬ 
logy  ;  in  other  words,  the  expansion  of  the  part  allowed  to 
mind  as  a  factor  in  experience.  The  career  of  the  great 
master  of  living  psychologists,  Wilhelm  Wundt,  which 
covers  those  forty  years,  has  been  the  gradual  development 
of  a  more  psychical  out  of  a  more  physiological  point  of 
view ;  the  senses  count  for  less,  the  transforming  and  crea¬ 
tive  energies  of  mind  for  more.  No  doubt  this  partial 
recovery  of  the  prestige  of  mind  was  not  in  the  same  degree 
a  recovery  of  the  prestige  of  thought.  On  the  contrary, 
the  accent  is  now  laid  upon  that  element  of  mind  which  the 
whole  temper  of  the  age  of  Bismarck  exultantly  empha¬ 
sized, — upon  will.  Ideas  had  failed  to  fashion  the 
German  state  in  .1848,  blood  and  iron  and  masterful  will 
succeeded  in  1871 ;  and  masterful  will  was  for  that  genera- 


76  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

tion  the  saving  formula,  the  guiding  clue,  in  politics,  in 
history,  in  science.  It  spoke  in  the  strident  diatribes  of 
the  champion  of  Germanism  Treitsclike;  it  spoke  in  the 
pregnant  and  impassioned  poetry  of  Nietzsche;  it  spoke  in 
the  severe  accents  of  the  psychological  laboratory,  in  the 
“  voluntarism  ”  of  Wundt,  which  interpreted  all  the  varied 
play  of  our  perception  as  the  result  of  subtle  operations  of 
desire.  Yet  this  masterful  will  has  never,  in  modern 
Germany,  ventured  to  emancipate  itself  from  thought. 
The  autocratic  Bismarckian  state  has  some  crying  defects ; 
and  its  rigid  frame  is  much  better  fitted  to  resist,  than  to 
assimilate,  movements  like  social  democracy  which  embody 
unfulfilled  national  needs.  But  that  this  autocratic  will 
is  inspired,  even  in  the  anomalies  of  its  electoral  law,  even 
in  the  extravagances  of  its  militarism,  and  directed  by  a 
powerful  if  incomplete  social  sense,  and  precise,  if  incom¬ 
plete,  social  ideas,  is  as  little  to  be  questioned  as  is  the 
intellectual  competence  with  which,  proverbially,  it  is 
carried  out.  The  administration  of  law,  of  education,  the 
government  of  towns,  the  provision  for  poverty,  disease, 
unemployment,  may  strike  us  as  dictatorial  or  intrusive ; 
but  can  its  worst  intrusions  compare  with  those  still  often 
perpetrated  in  our  workhouses,  sometimes  even  in  our 
hospitals,  by  the  triple  alliance  of  ignorance,  stupidity, 
and  red-tape? 

Let  us  beware  of  believing  that  Germany  is  less  free 
than  we  in  proportion  as  she  is  more  controlled.  Freedom, 
as  ordinarily  understood  by  us,  is  chiefly  a  negative  idea, 
adequately  conveyed  in  the  assurance  that  we  never  will 
be  slaves :  German  freedom  is  a  positive  and  complex 
ideal,  achieved  by  the  individual  in  and  through  the 
organised  state  in  which  he  plays  his  due  part,  and  only 
fully  enjoyed,  as  Goethe  so  finely  said,  when  it  is  daily 
won.  The  indomitable  personality  of  the  primitive 
Teuton  has  lost  nothing  of  its  vigour  or  of  its  originality 
in  the  Germany  of  Fichte  and  of  Bismarck.  It  has  been 
the  task,  and  in  a  great  degree  the  achievement, of  modern 


The  Intellectual  and  Literary  History  77 

Germany  to  reconcile  the  demand  for  the  free  development 
of  individuality  which  was  rooted  in  the  deepest  instincts 
of  the  race,  with  the  needs  of  a  many-sided  and  highly- 
organised  civilisation.  If  Germany  is  to-day  the  greatest 
example  of  a  scientifically  administered  state,  it  is  also  the 
country  which  has  most  deeply  felt  and  fathomed  and  most 
highly  prized,  the  life  of  the  soul.  If  the  nineteenth  cen¬ 
tury  is  strewn  with  the  wreckage  of  her  sublime  philo¬ 
sophies,  if  the  race  for  wealth  and  luxury  and  power  seems 
to  absorb  her  more  and  more,  it  is  still  to  Germany  that  we 
turn  for  an  assurance  that  the  thought  which  wanders 
through  eternity  and  wrestles,  however  vainly,  with  the 
enigmas  of  the  universe,  is  a  permanent  factor  of  civilisa¬ 
tion;  aud  through  all  the  roar  of  her  forges,  and  the 
clangour  of  her  dockyards,  the  answer  rings  back  clear. 


IV.— THE  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 


BY 

E.  C.  K.  GONNER,  M.A. 


THE  ECONOMIC  HISTORY.* 


The  Nineteenth.  Century  is  remarkable  for  the  great 
change  experienced  by  many  nations  in  their  economic 
system.  They  pass  from  one  system  of  organisation  to 
another.  New  forces  and  methods  tending  to  the  more 
rapid  development  of  new  wants  and  to  the  more  complete 
adaptation  of  means  to  satisfy  wants  take  the  place  of  old 
forces  and  methods  which  pursued  their  course  under  the 
restraining  influence  of  slowly  changing  customs  and  of 
institutions  which  endured  in  substance  even  when  modi¬ 
fied  in  form.  The  economic  history  of  Germany,  like  the 
economic  history  of  other  European  nations,  records  this 
common  change,  but  in  the  case  of  Germany  the  change 
occurs  under  particular  conditions  which  lend  it  distinc¬ 
tive  features  and  introduce  elements  of  difference  into  the 
development  of  that  country  as  compared  with  other 
countries . 

In  the  first  place  the  change  in  economic  conditions  from 
the  beginning  to  the  close  of  the  century  is  very  marked, 
not  so  much  perhaps  by  reason  of  the  stage  reached  at  the 
end  as  because  at  the  beginning  the  country  as  compared 
with  others  was  more  completely  under  the  sway  of  the 
past.  Both  in  agriculture  and  in  industry,  methods  neces¬ 
sitated  by  the  needs  and  circumstances  of  the  middle  ages 
were  still  dominant. 

In  the  second  place,  the  critical  period  in  the  transition 
occurs  late,  a  fact  of  great  importance  not  only  because  it 
invests  the  recent  growth  with  an  appearance  of  startling 


*  Several  of  the  points  mentioned  in  this  lecture  are  dealt  with  in 
great  detail  in  “Die  Deutsche  Volkswirtschaft,”  by  Werner  Sombart. 
Another  modern  book  well  worth  consulting  is  “Deutsche  Politik,”  by 
Ernst  Hasse. 


82  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

rapidity  and  magnitude  but  because  the  change,  long 
deferred  as  it  was,  takes  place  when  it  does  take  place 
under  particular  and  very  potent  influences.  In  reality, 
however,  the  causes  of  change  had  been  long  in  progress. 
On  different  sides  the  new  forces  had  been  growing  in 
strength,  though  their  interaction  and  their  consequent 
result  had  been  retarded  by  circumstances  in  large 
measure  political  rather  than  economic.  When  these 
obstacles  were  removed  the  causes  tending  to  a  new  growth 
came  together,  interacted  and  operated  with  great  effect 
and  suddenness. 

In  the  third  place,  influences  prominent  at  the  time  of 
transition  call  for  notice,  since  to  them  must  be  ascribed 
many  of  the  most  characteristic  features.  The  economic 
growth  in  Germany  was  singularly  conscious.  This  was 
owing  to  twTo  things.  On  the  one  hand  it  was  late,  thus 
following  after  similar  alterations  in  other  countries ;  on 
the  other  hand  it  occurred  at  a  time  when  the  position  and 
power  of  the  state  had  attained  unusual  dimensions.  Not 
only  did  the  nation  realise  its  needs,  not  only  was  it  con¬ 
scious  of  the  methods  employed  by  other  nations,  but  owing 
to  the  autocratic  organisation  of  the  country,  and  at  that 
time,  at  any  rate,  an  autocracy  enthusiastically  supported 
by  the  large  body  of  opinion,  it  could  act  consciously  and 
with  some  system.  Further  than  that  the  state  in  its 
action  had  the  experience  of  other  nations  to  guide  it. 
Their  methods,  when  good,  could  be  imitated;  the  mistakes 
involved  in  the  working  out  of  their  methods  could  be 
avoided.  There  is  one  thing  more.  As  the  manufac¬ 
turing  development  of  Germany  was  comparatively  late, 
she  came  to  the  world’s  market  to  find  powerful  competitors 
already  present  if  not  in  possession.  Foreign  manufac¬ 
tures,  indeed,  were  well  established  in  the  home  markets, 
and  against  them  the  nascent  industries  struggled  hard. 

An  account,  even  in  brief  outline,  of  the  particular  con¬ 
ditions  affecting  Germany  at  this  period  in  her  history 
would  be  incomplete  without  some  allusion  to  the  position 


83 


The  Economic  History 

of  agriculture  in  the  ecenomic  life.  Owing  to  physical 
conditions,  rural  pursuits  throughout  the  whole  century 
were  a  dominant  interest  in  very  large  regions.  Their 
importance  at  the  beginning  is  even  less  significant  than 
at  the  end,  when  a  third  of  the  population  were  directly 
dependent  on  agriculture.  To  some  extent  Germany  still 
is  an  Agrarian  State.  Its  position  in  this  respect  is 
emphasized  by  the  large  number  of  people  interested  in 
landed  property  :  with  several  million  holdings  agriculture 
means  far  more  to  the  people  of  Germany  than  it  can  mean 
to  the  people  of  this  country. 

The  various  features  to  which  allusion  has  been  made 
will  be  the  better  realised  both  in  their  importance  and 
their  proportion  if  we  turn  for  a  short  time  to  consider 
more  in  detail  the  course  taken  by  the  economic  history  of 
the  century.  Speaking  broadly,  that  history  may  be 
divided  into  three  periods;  that  of  Preparation,  that  of 
Tentative  Growth,  and  that  of  Conscious  Development. 

The  first  period  comprises  some  forty  years  or  more, 
stretching  from  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century  into  the 
forties . 

Judged  by  a  modern  standard,  the  condition  of  the 
country  was  extremely  backward.  As  yet  the  wave  of 
change  generated  in  other  countries  had  produced  little  if 
any  effect  upon  the  economic  life  and  occupations  of  the 
people.  These  latter  in  the  main  followed  traditional 
lines  associated  with  earlier  ages.  In  agriculture,  which 
formed  the  employment  of  the  very  great  majority  of  the 
people,  systems  of  common  cultivation  and  of  partial 
villeinage  ruled.  The  agricultural  community  was  the 
basis  of  cultivation  and  the  manor  in  large  measure  the 
unit  of  administration.  Though  in  Prussia  the  personal 
burdens  borne  by  the  peasants,  whether  free  or  in  villein¬ 
age,  had  been  relieved  of  much  of  their  harshness  during 
the  reign  of  Frederick  the  Great,  the  system  as  a  system 
had  been  defined  and  unified  by  his  action,  the  needs  of 
fhe  kingdom  and  his  desire  for  administrative  regu- 


84  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

larity  leading  liim  to  reorganize  the  semi-feudal 
system  according  to  which  the  land  was  held.  While 
in  other  German  states  conditions  differed,  in  most  the 
important  features  indicated  above  prevailed  in  some 
degree.  Such  systems,  however  they  may  be  judged  from 
other  points  of  view,  are  essentially  unprogressive.  As 
was  but  natural,  a  system  devised  to  meet  the  needs  of  a 
time  when  stability  was  the  one  essential,  and  when 
change,  if  it  presented  itself  as  a  possibility,  was  fraught 
with  peril,  was  eminently  unfit  for  a  time  when  change  was 
essential  and  when  the  possibilities  of  more  progressive 
farming  were  opening  up.  Again,  under  it  labour  was 
necessarily  tied  both  to  place  and  in  grade.  It  could  not 
move  and  it  could  not  rise.  So  far,  indeed,  as  Prussia 
was  concerned,  the  obstacles  to  progress  did  not  end  there. 
The  old  division  of  land  into  demesne  and  that  belonging 
to  the  tenants  still  remained,  though  in  a  somewhat  altered 
form.  Land  was  divided  into  three  classes,  noble  land, 
peasant  land,  and  burgher  land,  and  in  the  hands  of 
holders  of  tlieir  respective  classes  the  specific  land  was 
bound  to  remain.  Land  was  not  more  free  than  labour. 
Such  a  system  was  not  even  justified  by  the  comfort  of  the 
peasant  and  cultivating  class.  Travellers  in  England 
contrast  the  lot  and  intelligence  of  the  peasantry  in  that 
country  wfith  those  prevailing  in  their  own  North 
Germany,  to  the  great  advantage  of  England. 

In  industry,  in  like  manner,  customs  and  restrictions 
derived  from  mediaeval  times  controlled  and  confined 
life.  Trade,  other  than  that  involved  in  local  home  life, 
was  chiefly  in  the  towns  where  guild  regulations  continued 
in  force. 

Moreover,  the  country  was  poor.  So  far  as  general  agri¬ 
culture  is  concerned,  it  must  be  remembered  that  through¬ 
out  a  very  large  portion  of  Germany  the  soil  is  anything 
but  rich.  On  the  other  hand,  during  the  eighteenth  century 
Germany,  unlike  England,  had  not  reaped  the  advantages 
of  a  large  and  profitable  trade.  Its  stock  of  capital  was 


85 


The  Economic  History 

not  great,  and  what  there  had  been,  had  suffered  much 
from  the  devastating  effects  of  the  Napoleonic  wars. 

The  causes  operating  to  the  detriment  of  the  country, 
both  at  the  time  and  during  the  first  period,  may  be  briefly 
summarised.  Though  improvement  appears  in  certain 
directions,  the  growth  of  Germany  is  retarded  both  by  poli¬ 
tical  and  economic  circumstances. 

In  the  first  place,  political  difficulties  hampered  and 
embarrassed  the  country.  It  is  true  that  during  the  first 
half  of  the  century  actual  external  danger  by  wTar  was  less, 
but  on  the  other  hand  the  disturbances  due  to  political  com¬ 
plications  and  to  the  revolutionary  spirit  in  Europe  created 
internal  difficulties  in  the  administration  of  the  various 
states.  At  each  important  epoch  these  or  the  more  im¬ 
portant  of  these  shared  in  and  suffered  from  the  general 
unrest.  Constitutional  difficulties  were  recurrent  and 
did  much  to  unsettle  administration. 

In  the  second  place,  any  great  development,  and  espe¬ 
cially  any  great  industrial  development,  could  hardly  be 
expected  while  the  various  states  remained  so  wholly 
separated  and  thus  lacking  in  unity  for  any  important 
purpose.  Even  travelling  was  rendered  difficult  by  the 
differences  which  existed  between  the  various  parts.  This 
was  still  more  the  case  with  trade,  which  was  hopelessly 
obstructed  not  only  by  the  tariff  barriers  which  hedged  in 
each  state,  whether  great  or  small,  but  also  by  differences 
in  measures  and  money,  and  in  customs  and  laws. 

In  the  third  place,  owing  to  causes  already  dealt  with 
above,  the  two  great  conditions  of  modern  economic  growth 
were  lacking.  On  the  one  hand,  there  was  no  free  supply 
of  labour.  The  choice  of  occupation  was  restricted  even 
where  industries  were  plied  in  the  town,  while  the  large 
mass  of  the  people  were  tied  not  only  to  agriculture  but  to 
particular  places,  at  one  time  by  law  and  when  the  law 
was  relaxed  by  the  habits  engendered  under  the  law  and 
continuing  even  after  its  alteration.  On  the  other  hand, 


86  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

capital  was  lacking*,  and  the  new  industrial  movement 
above  everything  required  capital. 

Still  change  was  in  preparation.  Of  this,  three  illus¬ 
trations  may  be  chosen. 

Few  measures  of  reform  have  been  more  influential  for 
good  and  more  obviously  effective  than  those  which  are 
grouped  together  under  the  name  of  the  Stein-Hardenberg 
reforms.  These  reforms  embodied  in  the  legislation  of  three 
dates,  namely,  1807, 1811,  and  1850,  were  concerned  directly 
with  alterations  in  the  system  of  land  holding  and  agrarian 
cultivation  in  Prussia.  Their  results,  however,  extended 
far  beyond  the  sphere  of  landed  property  and  agriculture, 
affecting,  as  they  did,  the  body  of  labour  throughout  the 
kingdom.  By  them  free  exchange  in  land  was  established, 
such  villeinage  as  existed  was  abolished,  many  rights  com¬ 
muted,  and  common  fields  allotted.  No  doubt  the  rural 
population  still  remained  subject  to  disabilities,  many  of 
which  were  defined  and  even  emphasized  by  the  law  of 
1854;  but  despite  these,  essential  progress  was  achieved. 
Land  could  be  employed  with  comparative  freedom,  while 
labour,  if  not  completely  freed  while  on  the  land,  was  free 
to  move  from  the  land  and  into  new  occupations  where  its 
freedom  would  be  more  complete.  The  record  of  the 
measures  effecting  this  change  is  one  of  extraordinary 
interest,  and  deserves  a  more  detailed  account  than  can  be 
given  here.  The  results  are  what  concern  our  purpose. 
Of  these  two  stand  out  in  bold  relief.  On  the  one  hand, 
the  way  w^as  opened  to  a  reasonable  and  progressive  system 
of  cultivation.  Individual  rights  supplied  a  motive  for 
energy,  while  the  relaxation  of  restrictions  enabled  the 
energetic  cultivator  to  pursue  his  aim  unhindered  by  the 
ignorance  or  indolence  of  those  surrounding  him.  On  the 
other  hand,  labour  could  escape  from  its  fetters.  Thus  a 
new  supply  was  created  of  the  labour  necessary  to  the 
development  of  the  new  industries. 

Secondly,  in  1834-5,  the  first  Zollverein  is  formed  by  the 
union  of  Prussia,  Bavaria,  Wiirtemburg,  Saxony,  Baden, 


The  Economic  History  87 

Hess©  Nassau,  Thuringia,  and  Frankfurt,  to  b©  strength¬ 
ened  in  a  few  years  by  th©  accession  of  Brunswick  and 
Hanover,  and  later  still  by  that  of  the  Mecklenburgs. 
While  some  degree  of  isolation  still  remained,  the  import¬ 
ance  of  the  union  cannot  be  over-estimated.  Not  only  does 
it  mark  the  first  great  step  towards  a  politically  united 
Germany — but  in  the  economic  sense  it  is  a  stride  onwards 
in  the  progress  which  makes  Germany  one  country.  From 
that  time  German  industry  and  German  trade  bear  a  new 
and  a  real  meaning. 

Thirdly,  the  foundations  of  the  educational  system  were 
being  laid  with  consequences  to  the  economic  position  long 
delayed  in  their  fulfilment,  but  to  be  realised  when  the 
time  of  active  growth  occurs  and  when  Germany  forces  its 
way  into  the  forefront  of  the  manufacturing  nations  of  the 
world. 

At  the  moment,  however,  the  effect  of  these  changes  was 
little  apparent.  Though  not  without  immediate  results, 
these  results  were  but  an  imperfect  measure  of  the  change 
in  progress.  Tested  by  various  standards  Germany 
remained  far  behind  the  other  countries  in  Western 
Europe,  and  in  particular  behind  England.  Though  popu¬ 
lation  had  increased,  the  country  was  still  sparsely 
peopled ;  not  only  so,  but  the  more  or  less  uniform  distribu¬ 
tion  of  the  population  in  the  various  States  exhibits  a 
marked  contrast  to  the  condition  at  the  end  of  the  century 
and  to  the  condition  even  then  evident  in  England.  Again, 
handwork  was  still  a  controlling  factor  in  many  branches 
of  industry.  In  1846,  though  there  were  nearly  as  many 
cotton  looms  in  the  factory  as  in  the  home,  by  far  the 
greater  number  of  the  former  were  handlooms,  while  in  the 
case  of  wool,  home  looms  were  more  than  double  those  in 
factories.  In  spinning  the  comparison  was  naturally  even 
more  striking,  little  wool  and  far  less  linen  yarn  being 
spun  outside  the  home.  Of  those  engaged  in  the  textile 
weaving  trade  over  12  per  cent,  of  those  employed  in  wool 


88  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

and  over  80  per  cent,  of  those  employed  in  linen  were 
partly  engaged  in  agriculture. 

The  rich  stores  of  minerals  remained  almost  undis¬ 
turbed,  a  source  of  wealth  and  power  for  the  future,  hut  of 
little  practical  use  for  the  present.  Even  in  1860  the  coal 
raised  amounted  to  12  million  tons,  while  pig-iron  only 
reached  half  a  million. 

Towns  had,  it  is  true,  increased,  hut  they  were  small, 
and  many  if  not  most  of  them  agricultural  rather  than 
industrial.  In  many  cases  barns  and  farm  buildings 
stood  in  numbers  among  the  houses.  Two  sets  of  figures 
will  illustrate  the  position.  Of  the  whole  population,  in 
1850,  under  30  per  cent,  lived  in  towns  of  all  kinds  whether 
rural  or  urban  (2,000  inhabitants),  whereas  in  1900  over 
54  per  cent,  were  so  resident;  while  in  large  towns,  that  is 
in  towns  with  50,000  inhabitants,  in  1850,  only  3'5  per 
cent,  of  the  population  were  resident,  a  percentage  which 
in  1900  was  close  on  22  per  cent.  (2T9).  Taking  occupa¬ 
tions,  it  has  been  estimated  that  in  1843,  of  all  persons 
earning  a  livelihood,  some  60  per  cent,  were  employed  in 
actual  rural  pursuits,  a  figure  which  has  now  fallen  to  35 
per  cent. 

While  it  is  true,  as  has  been  pointed  out  already,  that 
some  start  had  been  made  in  the  direction  of  factory 
organisation,  progress  there  had  been  slight.  When  it 
occurred,  distress  among  the  poorly  paid  home  workers  had 
been  accentuated,  with  the  result  that  the  time  was  one  of 
severe  suffering;  but  this  form  of  employment,  soon  to 
dominate  in  the  future,  was  in  its  early  infancy.  Its 
development  was  abnormal  to  the  general  condition  of  the 
country,  and  was  in  part,  at  any  rate,  under  instigations 
received  from  outside,  the  actual  direction  in  many  cases 
falling  into  the  hands  of  enterprising  Englishmen. 

In  general,  Germany  was  a  rural  country  and  its  indus¬ 
tries  home  industries.  Its  foreign  trade  was  that  of  a 
country  (about  1840)  only  just  emerging  from  the  grade  in 
which  exports  were  mainly  raw  products  or  partially 


89 


The  Economic  History 

manufactured  products  of  home  growth,  and  imports 
wholly  or  nearly  wholly  of  manufactured  goods,  with  the 
addition  of  Eastern  products  as  sugar,  colfee,  and  silk.  It 
produced  from  the  laud  more  than  it  required;  it  was 
dependent  on  foreign  nations  for  its  supplies  of  such  things 
as  iron  goods  and  cotton  yarns.  It  was  a  poor  country 
with  very  low  wages  and  small  incomes. 

About  the  middle  of  the  century  a  change  passes  over  the 
scene.  With  the  constitutional  settlement  after  the  stormy 
year  of  1848,  a  new~  opportunity  for  peaceful  industrial 
growth  presents  itself.  Equally  important  was  the  sudden 
stimulus  applied  to  trade  and  industry  by  the  rising  prices, 
which  ensued  in  the  gold  discoveries.  While  this  influ¬ 
ence  was  common  to  Europe,  it  was  felt  with  peculiar  force 
in  Germany,  which  had  just  reached  the  stage  when  such 
an  impetus  was  the  one  thing  necessary  to  bring  into  action 
the  various  forces  which  had  been  gathering  strength.  Not 
only  was  the  capital  required  but  capital  in  a  ready  form. 
Equally  necessary  was  capitalistic  organisation  and  direc¬ 
tion.  The  speculative  activity  which  ensued  in  the 
decade  from  1850  to  1860  is  important,  not  so  much 
because  of  the  magnitude  of  the  progress  achieved  as 
because  during  its  course,  and  owing  to  its  direction,  the 
factors  of  purely  modern  organisation  and  of  modern 
German  organisation  are  developed.  As  to  the  industrial 
progress,  the  figures  relating  to  formation  of  Joint  Stock 
Companies  are  instructive ;  thus  in  Bavaria  during  the 
years  1837-48  six  companies  were  founded  with  a  total 
capital  of  about  £200,000,  whereas  from  1849-58  there 
were  44  companies  with  a  total  capital  of  £7,000,000. 
Taking  the  whole  of  Germany,  it  has  been  estimated  that 
during  the  years  1853-7  the  share  capital  of  newly  founded 
banks  reached  £30,000,000,  and  that  paid  up  on  new  rail¬ 
ways  exceeded  £20,000,000.  Without  any  further  multi¬ 
plication  of  figures  it  may  be  said  that  the  foundations  of 
Germany  as  an  Industrial  State  were  firmly  laid  and 
secured  during  this  decade.  It  is  equally  important  to  notice 


90  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

that  in  the  sphere  of  finance  the  activity  of  the  period  is  as 
great,  if  not  greater,  than  in  general  trade  and  manufac¬ 
ture.  Banks  and  Insurance  Companies  are  conspicuous 
in  the  record  of  advance,  and  even  at  this  time  signs  are 
present  of  the  particular  relationship  between  banks  and 
industrial  enterprise,  which  still  exists,  though  under 
serious  restrictions,  and  offers,  whatever  its  disadvantages, 
a  ready  channel  for  the  flow  of  capital  into  novel  under¬ 
takings. 

This  influence  was  of  great  importance  in  the  succeeding 
decade,  1860-70.  During  these  years  the  somewhat 
feverish  activity  gives  place  to  a  more  settled  though  a 
more  gradual  development.  While  industrial  advance 
continues,  its  rate  of  progress  is  obviously  retarded  and  its 
difficulties  increased  by  the  established  rivalry  of  more 
developed  industry  in  other  countries,  and  particularly  in 
England .  In  no  branches  is  this  more  marked  than  in  iron 
and  steel  and  other  mineral  industries.  Against  this,  in 
foreign  markets  Germany  could  do  little,  while  even  in  the 
home  market  the  pressure  was  severe.  In  addition  the 
strain  of  foreign  wars,  despite  their  success  and  their 
important  political  consequences,  was  grave. 

The  war  of  1870,  with  its  great  successes,  marks  some¬ 
what  generally  the  transition  to  another  stage  in  the  deve¬ 
lopment  of  the  country.  The  Eranco-Prussian  war  came 
at  the  close  of  a  decade  during  which  other  wars  had 
occurred,  and  imposed  a  very  considerable  burden  upon  the 
country.  The  existence,  indeed,  of  any  progress  at  all 
during  these  years  would  be  surprising  were  it  not  that  the 
gravest  burden  of  a  war  is  felt  rather  in  the  later  years,  or 
even  in  the  succeeding  years  of  peace,  than  during  the 
early  years  of  its  course.  In  many  respects  the  immediate 
effects  of  a  war  not  waged  on  home  territory  is  to  stimulate 
into  abnormal  activity  certain  large  branches  of  industry. 
War  years  are  not  necessarily  years  of  depression.  That 
is  frequently  felt  far  more  keenly  afterwards,  when  debt 
has  to  be  paid  off  and  the  disajopearance  of  the  abnormal 


91 


The  Economic  History- 

inflation  causes  disturbance  before  industry  again  takes  to 
its  usual  channels.  During  the  war,  of  course,  there  is 
some  disturbance  of  trade,  but  it  is  under  the  influence  of 
temporary  and  special  activities  in  some  directions, 
whereas  after  the  war  is  over,  whether  it  be  successful  or 
unsuccessful,  the  disturbance  is  unrelieved  by  any  such 
compensating  factors.  The  depression  in  the  ’seventies 
was  undoubtedly  accentuated  by  circumstances  of  this 
kind. 

In  this  particular  instance,  however,  the  effect  of  the 
war  was  affected  by  a  very  particular  circumstance,  namely 
the  payments  of  the  large  indemnity  from  France.  Its 
consequences  were  various.  The  method  of  payment, 
affecting  as  it  did  the  import  trade  of  the  country,  brought 
about  some  dislocation  in  the  industries.  The  actual  pay¬ 
ment  was  important  in  itself,  as  wiping  out,  as  it  were,  one 
large  part  of  the  after-effects  of  a  war.  Not  only  did  it 
cover  the  cost  of  the  war,  both  that  involved  in  its  prosecu¬ 
tion  and  that  required  to  make  good  direct  losses  and  to 
provide  pensions;  but  owing  partly  to  its  magnitude  and 
partly  to  the  fact  that  a  large  part  of  the  cost  itself  had 
been  defrayed  out  of  revenue,  a  very  considerable  surplus 
was  left.  The  existence  of  this  and  the  use  made  of  it 
may  be  placed  against  the  general  disturbance  liable  to 
ensue  at  the  conclusion  of  a  war.  In  the  first  place,  a 
certain  powerful  industrial  stimulus  was  brought  into  play 
by  the  provision  of  a  new  fund  of  capital.  In  the  second 
place,  the  actual  employment  of  the  indemnity  by  the 
Government  calls  for  a  word.  A  much-needed  new  gold 
coinage  was  provided  on  the  one  hand,  while  on  the  other 
hand  certain  state  debts  were  extinguished.  A  precise 
determination  of  the  economic  advantages  and  disadvan¬ 
tages  of  the  particular  war  cannot  be  attempted ;  but  under 
the  circumstances  of  the  case,  there  was  gain  to  be  placed 
against  the  loss. 

A  far  more  potent  cause  of  advantage,  however,  lay  in 
the  enthusiasm  due  to  victory  and  the  new  and  larger 


92  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


realisation  of  material  unity.  Important  a,s  this  was  in 
itself,  it  was  rendered  the  more  effective  because  embodied 
in  the  State,  bureaucratic  in  organisation  and  autocratic  in 
its  authority.  Of  the  many  influences  which  conduced  to 
this  result  it  is  impossible  to  speak — but  so  far  as  the  nine¬ 
teenth  century  is  concerned  two  things  must  be  remem¬ 
bered.  Owing  to  the  genius  of  Stein  the  bureaucratic 
government  of  Prussia  could  urge  its  own  excellence  in 
justification  of  its  disregard  of  democratic  protest;  later 
events  play  their  part  by  associating  autocracy  with  suc¬ 
cess.  Thus  after  the  war  the  autocratic  State  held  a  well- 
nigh  impregnable  position.  Its  guidance  fell  into  the 
hands  of  one  singularly  fitted  for  his  task.  One  feature  in 
Bismarck’s  character  may  be  recalled,  a  freedom  from 
doctrinaire  predispositions  so  complete  as  to  accentuate  the 
charge  often  made  against  him  of  lack  of  principle. 

The  problem  before  him  was  one  of  great  complexity. 
The  manufactures  of  the  country  ready  to  develop  were 
confronted  by  difficulties  both  internal  and  from  abroad. 
Again,  as  has  already  been  pointed  out,  some  industrial 
depression  had  followed  on  the  cessation  of  the  war.  More¬ 
over,  a  very  critical  phase  in  the  transition  from  home 
work  to  the  factory  was  in  progress.  In  many  parts  of 
the  country  there  was  acute  suffering,  bringing  with  it  the 
natural  clamour  for  redress  and  finding  vent  in  agitation 
partly  democratic  and  partly  socialistic.  On  the  other 
hand,  despite  steady  advance,  the  pressure  of  foreign  com¬ 
petition  not  only  in  distant  markets  but  at  home  was  un¬ 
deniably  very  severe.  This  was  so  to  some  extent  in  the 
textile  trade.  It  was  greatest  in  the  mining  and  iron 
industries.  Lastly,  agriculture  was  in  a  serious  plight  by 
the  middle  of  the  ’seventies.  During  the  earlier  industrial 
growth,  agriculture  had  benefited  by  the  increase  in  the 
home  demand,  and  with  that  benefit  there  had  been  a  rise 
— often  an  undue  rise — both  in  rents  and  in  the  price  of 
land.  To  some  extent  it  would  seem  true  that  the  advance 
in  these  latter  respects  had  outrun  the  rise  in  the  prices  of 


The  Economic  History 


93 


agricultural  produce.  The  fall  in  prices,  both  in  prices  in 
general  and  especially  in  prices  of  agricultural  produce, 
owing  to  imports  from  distant  lands,  menaced  the  landed 
proprietor  with  difficulties.  His  resort  to  mortgages  con¬ 
verted  difficulties  into  disaster.  Properties,  particularly 
the  large  properties,  were  burdened  with  a  gradual  increase 
of  debt.  This  tendency,  while  not  by  any  means  novel, 
was  accentuated  in  the  ’seventies. 

While  these  were  the  economic  difficulties  which  con¬ 
fronted  the  new  Empire,  the  sources  of  strength  require  a 
word.  Some  of  these  have  been  touched  on  already  and 
need  not  be  dealt  with  again.  But  alongside  of  them  are 
certain  characteristics  resulting  from  past  history.  Thus 
adversity  had  taught  severe  lessons  and  inculcated  the 
need  of  hard  work  and  of  adaptation  to  the  requirements  of 
others.  Again,  long  years  of  subordination  had  resulted 
in  habits  of  discipline  and  prompt  obedience. 

From  this  brief  survey  we  can  turn  to  a  consideration  of 
the  actual  economic  policy  in  this,  the  great,  period,  of 
German  development. 

In  the  first  place,  as  to  its  aims.  The  great  economic 
need  which  confronted  the  statesmen  of  the  Empire  was 
the  development  of  the  rich  mineral  resources  of  the 
country.  To  that  was  conjoined  emancipation  from  a 
dependence  on  foreign  countries  for  certain  very  im¬ 
portant  commodities.  While  these  two  objects  differ,  in 
a  sense  they  were  in  the  then  condition  of  the  country  com¬ 
plementary  to  each  other.  The  enormous  mineral  wealth 
of  the  country  made  the  reliance  on  England  the  more 
aggravating.  The  material  for  a  large  and  extended 
industry  was  at  hand,  and  yet  its  establishment  threatened 
to  be  long  deferred.  It  is  impossible  to  say  what  might 
have  been  the  result  of  inaction,  but  this  much  is  certain, 
the  dimensions  of  the  industry  were  small  and  the  rate  of 
increase  slow. 

But  another  aspect  of  difficulty  presented  itself.  The 
events  already  described  had  resulted  in  serious  agrarian 


94  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


distress  in  the  latter  years  of  this  decade.  Agriculture, 
still  the  main  interest  of  the  nation,  was  crying  for  assist¬ 
ance. 

Lastly,  the  industrial  transition  as  it  was  beginning  to 
exhibit  itself  in  Germany,  especially  when  taken  with  the 
experience  of  the  change  in  England,  showed  the  need  of 
special  measures  in  relief.  Other  nations  had  encountered 
the  difficulties,  but  the  passage  had  been  a  stormy  one  and 
had  left  behind  it  troubles  of  a  permanent  character.  What 
these  were  was  becoming  clear.  To  remedy  them  or 
rather  to  anticipate  them  meant  state  intervention  and 
action. 

To  this  course  Germany  was  prone.  The  organisation 
of  the  state  there  differed  in  particular  from  the 
organisation  in  such  a  country  as  England.  It  was 
far  more  bureaucratic  and  far  better  designed  for  adminis¬ 
tration.  German  feeling,  moreover,  was  in  favour  of  a 
positive  policy  in  industrial  matters,  and  it  should  be 
added  not  wholly  because  of  usage.  The  benefits  it  derives 
from  state  activity  are  greater  than  elsewdiere,  and  the  dis¬ 
advantages,  at  any  rate  the  immediate  disadvantages,  con¬ 
siderably  less.  And  as  results  are  one  test  of  a  system  of 
government,  state  action  may  be  justified  as  being  good. 
The  state  acts  in  a  favourable  environment  and  under 
favourable  conditions. 

Bearing  these  points  in  mind  the  course  pursued  by 
Prince  Bismarck  was  natural.  It  arose  from  the  past  and 
it  corresponded  with  the  immediate  circumstances  as  he 
and  the  larger  part  of  the  nation  interpreted  them. 

Firstly,  the  State  develops  the  historic  policy  (historic, 
even  if  subject  to  intermissions)  of  taking  an  active  part  in 
the  development  of  industries,  either  in  general  or  in  parti¬ 
cular.  This  bears  three  aspects. 

State  ownership  in  industries  had  been  a  common 
feature  in  Germany.  This  was  increased  either  by  the 
different  States  or  by  the  Imperial  Government.  Public 
participation  in  commercial  enterprises  for  the  purpose  of 


The  Economic  History- 


95 


public  revenue  has  been  developed  in  different  respects, 
notably  by  tbe  taking  over  of  tlie  railways  by  the  Imperial 
Government  both  from  tbe  states  or  from  private  bodies. 

Again  use  bas  been  made,  though  rather  in  the  later 
than  the  earlier  decades,  of  the  state  ownership  of  the 
railways  to  assist  and  subsidise  industries,  a  feature  which 
has  attracted  the  more  attention  by  the  deliberate  effort  to 
concentrate  the  assistance  on  the  exporting  branches.  In 
no  country  probably  has  this  policy  been  so  carefully 
elaborated,  extending  as  it  does  in  some  cases  to  the  com¬ 
bined  service  by  the  railway  and  shipping.  Subsidies, 
however,  have  not  been  confined  to  these  means.  In 
giving  them  and  determining  on  them  the  autocratic 
nature  of  the  government  must  be  remembered. 

Lastly,  wn  come  to  the  change  in  tariff  policy  in  18T9. 
Here  again  it  is  necessary  to  emphasize  the  different  mean¬ 
ing  which  state  action  and  state  control  bear  in  Germany 
from  that  which  attaches  to  them,  for  instance,  in  Eng¬ 
land.  The  State  is  expected  to  intervene  and  to  act  in 
economic  as  in  other  matters.  The  only  questions  are  as 
to  the  form  and  sphere  of  its  action .  The  situation,  however, 
was  one  of  peculiar  difficulties.  Protection  when  adopted 
implied,  and  inevitably  implied,  protection  of  home  agri¬ 
culture  as  well  as  home  industries,  and  this  has  been  a 
source  not  only  of  economic  but  of  political  complexity. 
It  emphasizes  the  division  between  industrial  and  agrarian 
interests . 

In  the  second  place,  the  social  action  of  the  German 
Government  offers  one  of  the  most  interesting  illustrations 
of  state  as  distinct  from  democratic  socialism.  Socialism 
as  known  in  Germany  is  of  two  kinds.  There  is  the 
socialism  of  democracy  and  of  agitation,  which  as  yet  has 
come  to  little.  There  is  the  autocratic  state  socialism 
which  has  effected  much,  though  it  might  have  effected 
more  had  it  been  possible  to  develop  it  more  in  accordance 
with  and  less  in  antagonism  to  popularly  expressed  feel¬ 
ings.  Its  nature  and  extent  prove  the  entire  inaccuracy 


96  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


of  the  popular  assumption  that  socialism  is  a  necessary  out¬ 
come  or  form  of  democracy.  So  far  is  this  from  being  the 
case  that  it  may  be  said  that  its  achievement  is  easier  and 
its  initial  success  greater  under  an  autocratic  than  under  a 
democratic  system.  Furthermore,  it  is  interesting  to 
observe  the  way  in  which  the  socialistic  activities  of  the 
government  were  at  least  concurrent  if  not  more  intimately 
connected  with  its  protective  policy  :  just  as  in  Australia 
protective  developments  issued  in  the  pure  socialism  of  the 
Industries  Act. 

Of  the  detail  of  this  social  policy  no  description  can  be 
given  here.  Though  in  certain  respects  partial  and  inter¬ 
mittent,  it  is  as  a  whole  wide  and  comprehensive,  includ¬ 
ing  as  it  does,  pension  systems,  insurance  systems  for 
sickness,  invalidity  and  want  of  work,  labour  registers,  and 
labour  colonies. 

But  passing  from  this  meagre  outline  of  policy,  what 
can  be  said  of  the  development  of  modern  Germany  ?  That 
it  has  been  extraordinarily  great  none  can  gainsay ;  but  its 
progress  is  liable  to  exaggeration.  As  has  been  pointed 
out,  it  has  been  due  to  causes,  developing  in  isolation, 
retarded  in  action  by  certain  obstacles,  and  then  brought 
into  sudden  contact  under  particular  conditions.  It  is  a 
mistake,  however,  to  take  the  foreign  trade  of  the  country 
as  a  sure  index  of  its  industrial  advance.  Such  tests, 
however  useful  they  may  be  for  rhetorical  purposes,  are  of 
no  value  to  the  student  who  knows  that  the  relation 
between  external  trade  and  internal  development  varies 
greatly  not  only  from  time  to  time  but  from  nation  to 
nation. 

Among  the  many  achievements  of  the  closing  years  three 
stand  out,  the  iron  and  chemical  trades  with  their  allied 
branches,  railway  and  canal  development,  the  growth  of 
shipping.  While  each  of  these  has  been  affected  by  the 
general  causes  or  by  some  of  the  general  causes  previously 
discussed,  each  has  a  particular  feature  and  is  a  particular 
illustration  of  some  special  factor  in  Germany’s  economic 


The  Economic  History 


97 


life.  The  iron  and  steel  trades  and  chemical  industries, 
due  no  doubt  to  the  rich  mineral  wealth,  reflect  the  advan¬ 
tage  bestowed  on  the  country  by  a  long  period  of  high 
scientific  training.  Internal  communication  under  state 
control  illustrates  the  particular  aptitude  of  the  country 
in  respect  of  bureaucratic  management,  which  of  course  is 
always  at  its  best  when  exercised  in  a  field  where  routine, 
regularity  and  systematic  organisation  are  most  essential. 
That  the  shipping  trade  has  expanded  as  it  has  is  due 
largely  to  special  state  action  and  favour. 

As  against  instances  such  as  these  must  be  placed  other 
things,  such  as,  the  failure  to  cope  with  the  agricultural 
difficulties;  and  the  political  complications  which  have 
ensued  on  the  attempt  to  maintain  a  balance  between 
agrarian  Germany  and  industrial  Germany. 

The  change  has  been  great  and  its  causes  many.  Some 
attempt  has  been  made  to  disentangle  these  and  to  trace 
their  interaction.  It  remains  to  add  a  few  words  as  to 
the  nature  of  the  transition.  In  common  with  other 
nations  in  Western  Europe,  Germany  comes  under  the 
influence  of  a  great  change.  A  national  life  based  on 
custom  and  with  its  customary  needs  supplied  by  custo¬ 
mary  methods  passes  under  the  sway  of  keen  industrial 
forces.  As  in  other  countries  the  altered  conditions 
manifest  themselves  in  an  irregular  density  of  population, 
the  more  rural  districts  and  particularly  those  where  large 
proprietorship  ruled  exhibiting  little  increase,  and  in  some 
instances  decrease.  There  is  the  same  tendency,  even  if 
not  so  great,  for  population  to  flow  from  the  country  to  the 
town,  though  affected  in  part  by  particular  causes  espe¬ 
cially  in  such  districts  as  those  mentioned.  In  Germany, 
too,  as  in  England,  imports  come  to  exceed  exports,  while 
the  place  of  food  in  the  former  grows  in  importance.  On 
the  social  side,  though  here  political  causes  confuse  and 
complicate,  a  deepening  separation  appears  between  the 
economic  classes.  In  other  words,  a  modern  industrial 
society  has  been  constituted  in  a  country  not  one  hundred 


98  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


years  before  fixed  as  it  seemed  in  agricultural  life  and 
its  attendant  occupations. 

There  are,  however,  particular  features  which  serve  to 
distinguish  the  change  from  that  which  took  place  else¬ 
where.  In  the  first  place,  the  change  took  place  late.  In 
the  second  place,  its  direction  was  influenced  by  the  State 
and  by  a  State  autocratic  in  its  character.  In  the  third 
place,  the  development  owed  much  to  the  previous  educa¬ 
tional  growth  which  accelerated  advance  in  particular 
directions. 

A  contrast  naturally  presents  itself  between  the  course 
taken  by  the  great  and  general  economic  transition  in 
Germany  with  that  which  it  pursued  in  this  country. 
Germany  came  to  the  change  late  and  was  long  retarded 
by  its  want  of  trade  capital;  while  in  England  the  long 
period  of  rich  trading  which  preceded  the  beginning  of 
the  Industrial  Revolution  furnished  capital  and  also  made 
trading  needs  a  guide  to  its  direction.  The  industries  of 
England  are  more  intimately  bound  up  with  external 
trade  than  in  Germany,  while  again  the  long  prosperity 
enjoyed  by  merchants  made  them  less  anxious  to  suit 
tbeir  habits  to  those  of  their  customers.  The  change  in 
England  extended  over  a  much  longer  time  and  is  marked 
by  strong  individualistic  conditions.  That  in  Germany 
occurs  under  the  aegis  of  the  government,  and  owes  much 
to  its  support. 

In  England  there  are  signs,  at  any  rate,  that  the  State 
will  in  the  future  play  a  more  active  role.  Again  the 
sentiment  of  the  time  in  the  one  country  is  democratic ; 
in  the  other  autocratic.  Thus  while  social  legislation  of 
a  more  advanced  character  appeared  sooner  in  Germany, 
that  nation  is  left  to  meet  the  problems  involved  in  the 
growing  force  of  democracy.  Again  in  England  the 
differences  as  between  country  and  town  have  been 
resolved  in  favour  of  the  latter,  in  Germany  the  decision 
owing  to  state  intervention  swings  in  the  balance. 

Whatever  the  difficulties  before  England  in  its  attempt 


The  Economic  History- 


99 


to  introduce  a  new  central  adjustment  of  its  individual¬ 
istic  forces,  tlie  difficulties  in  the  path  of  Germany  are  at 
least  as  great.  There  a  system  of  economic  and  social 
organisation  highly  centralised  and  in  the  control  of  a 
strong  and  enlightened  bureaucracy  has  to  be  reconciled 
with  popular  forces.  The  part  which  these  latter  will 
play  is  very  uncertain,  but  in  any  case  their  introduction 
cannot  but  affect  and  modify  the  organisation  which  from 
an  administrative  point  of  view  has  worked  with  remark¬ 
able  effect. 

There  are  two  particular  aspects  of  modern  German 
development  which  merit  a  word  or  two.  The  great 
tendency  to  specialization,  obvious  in  many  directions, 
has  been  ingeniously  claimed  by  one  writer,  as  an 
important  factor  in  the  economic  sphere  since  there  it 
corresponds  with  and  enforces  Division  of  Labour.  This 
of  course  it  quite  true  from  one  point  of  view,  namely  the 
administrative  point  of  view,  but  it  obscures  something 
that  is  equally  true.  After  all,  the  human  factor  in 
industry  is  a  human  being  as  well  as  a  part  of  the 
economic  machinery  of  the  country.  Again  the  security 
of  individual  liberty  has  been  subordinated  to  the  needs 
of  autocratic  and  centralised  direction.  But  does  this  mean 
that  such  individualism  is  of  little  or  no  importance  in 
economic  progress? 

The  answer  to  this  and  other  like  questions  lies  in  the 
future.  German  development  at  a  particular  and  critical 
stage  was  forced  into  a  certain  form.  Whether  this  was 
inevitable  or  not  does  not  matter.  But  if  important 
forces  have  been  ignored,  some  time  or  other  they  will 
demand  their  place.  Their  recognition  may  be  deferred, 
but  that  solves  nothing.  The  problem  is  not  their  post¬ 
ponement  but  their  adaptation  to  the  existing  structure. 


V— THE  HISTORY  OF  EDUCATION. 

BY 

M.  E.  SADLER,  M.A.,  LL.D. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  EDUCATION. 


The  history  of  education  in  Germany  during  the  nine¬ 
teenth  century  falls  into  three  periods,  fairly  well-defined 
in  point  of  date  and  distinguished  from  one  another  by 
those  changes  in  social  and  political  outlook  which  affect 
all  educational  developments.  The  first  period,  which 
extended  from  the  beginning  of  the  century  to  about  1840, 
was,  especially  in  its  earlier  years,  an  era  of  reconstruction 
inspired  by  patriotic  enthusiasm  and  by  a  passionate  belief 
in  the  political  value  of  intellectual  achievement.  The 
second  period,  which  extended  from  1840  to  the  foundation 
of  the  German  Empire  in  1871,  was  an  era  of  consolidation, 
marked  by  some  reaction  from  the  high-pitched  hopes  of 
the  earlier  period,  and  also  by  the  growth  of  realism  in 
educational  policy.  The  third  period,  which  has  extended 
from  the  foundation  of  the  German  Empire  to  the  present 
day,  has  been  an  era  of  renewed  advance,  brilliant  in  its 
administrative  achievement  and  in  its  systematic  readjust¬ 
ment  of  educational  arrangements  to  modern  needs. 

During  the  nineteenth  century  the  educational  history 
of  Great  Britain,  and  to  some  extent  that  of  Ireland,  fell 
likewise  into  three  periods,  almost  coincident  in  point  of 
time  with  those  named  above,  but  otherwise  presenting  a 
sharp  contrast  to  what  was  desired  and  achieved  in 
Germany.  The  first  period,  which  extended  from  the 
discussions  on  Mr.  Whitbread’s  Education  Bill  in  1807  to 
the  establishment  of  the  Committee  of  Council  on  Educa¬ 
tion  in  1839,  was  an  era  of  philanthropic  and  religious 
effort  in  popular  education,  helped  by  State  subsidy  in 
Ireland  from  1814  and  in  Great  Britain  from  1833.  The 
second  period,  which  extended  from  1839  to  Mr.  Forster’s 
Education  Act  in  1870  (followed  by  the  Scottish  Education 


104  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


Act,  1872),  was  an  era  of  Parliamentary  investigation,  of 
increasing  public  subsidy  and  of  internal  reform  in  higher 
and  secondary  education.  The  third  period,  which  has 
extended  from  1870  to  the  present  time,  has  seen  a  rapid 
extension  of  educational  opportunity  throughout  the 
kingdom  and  a  marked  growth  in  the  administrative 
authority  of  the  State  in  educational  affairs.  The  chief 
characteristic  of  the  first  period  was  associated  philan¬ 
thropy;  that  of  the  second,  educational  self-government 
under  the  supervision  of  the  State ;  that  of  the  third,  the 
slow  construction  in  each  part  of  the  United  Kingdom  of 
an  educational  system  more  closely  articulated  in  all  its 
parts  and  more  systematically  aided  out  of  public  funds. 

In  the  following  pages  an  attempt  is  made  to  trace  in 
outline  the  chief  features  of  the  educational  history  of 
Germany  and  of  the  United  Kingdom  during  the  nine¬ 
teenth  century ;  to  compare  and  to  contrast  the  development 
of  their  systems  of  education;  to  trace  the  influence  of 
German  educational  ideas  upon  British  and  the  reciprocal 
influence  of  British  educational  ideas  upon  German;  and, 
finally,  to  consider  the  likelihood  of  a  closer  assimilation 
between  the  educational  systems  of  the  German  Empire 
and  of  the  United  Kingdom. 

I. 

Fichte,  in  the  lectures  which  he  delivered  in  Berlin  in 
1806  on  the  Characteristics  of  the  Present  Age,  laid  it 
down  as  a  fundamental  principle  that  “  a  State,  which 
constantly  seeks  to  increase  its  internal  strength,  is  forced 
to  desire  the  gradual  abolition  of  all  privileges  and  the 
establishment  of  equal  rights  for  all  men,  in  order  that  it, 
the  State  itself,  may  enter  upon  its  true  right,  viz.,  to 
apply  the  whole  surplus  power  of  all  its  citizens,  without 
exception,  to  the  furtherance  of  its  own  purposes.”  In 
these  words,  spoken  at  a  time  of  supreme  crisis  in  the 
national  life,  a  great  patriot  gave  utterance  to  the  con¬ 
viction  of  his  enlightened  fellow-countrymen.  The  removal 


The  History  of  Education 


105 


of  arbitrary  and  obsolete  privilege,  tbe  development  of 
individual  character,  and  tbe  subordination  of  private 
interest  to  tbe  collective  welfare  were  deemed  by  Fichte, 
and  by  those  of  bis  fellow-countrymen  to  whose  convictions 
be  gave  expression,  essential  to  national  preparation  for 
tbe  task  of  furthering  tbe  permanent  interests  of  mankind. 
Tbe  personal  sacrifice  and  tbe  class  sacrifices  which 
obedience  to  these  principles  involved  were  held  by  Ficbte 
to  be  indispensable  at  tbe  juncture  which  Western,  and 
especially  German,  civilisation  bad  reached.  “  Tbe 
gradual  interpenetration  of  tbe  citizen  by  tbe  State  is,”  be 
wrote,  “  tbe  political  characteristic  of  our  age .  .  .  We  do 
indeed  desire  freedom,  and  we  ought  to  desire  it;  but  true 
freedom  can  be  obtained  only  by  means  of  tbe  highest 
obedience  to  law.”  In  this  atmosphere  of  political  thought 
and  of  moral  self-abnegation,  tbe  educational  ideals  of 
modern  Germany  were  formed. 

Moral  leadership  in  tbe  new  educational  movement  thus 
fell  to  Prussia.  She  bore  tbe  brunt  of  tbe  national  peril. 
In  her  was  found  tbe  group  of  statesmen  capable  of  build¬ 
ing  up  a  system  of  government  and  administration  which 
aimed  at  giving  effect  to  the  philosophic  idea  of  an  organ¬ 
ised  State,  strong  through  the  personal  convictions  of  its 
citizens  and  through  their  readiness  to  subject  themselvevs 
to  the  duties  and  discipline  of  national  life.  But  it  was 
not  in  Prussia  alone  that  the  new  spirit  in  German  educa¬ 
tion  found  utterance  and  realisation.  The  States  of  central 
and  southern  Germany  brought  their  contributions  to  the 
movement  which  stirred  German  education  with  a  new  life 
and  purpose.  Great  as  its  services  have  been,  Prussia  is  far 
from  being  the  sole  representative  of  German  culture  or  of 
its  administrative  achievement.  Any  account  of  German 
education  which  underrates  or  ignores  the  service  of 
southern  Germany  and  of  the  smaller  States  which  now 
form  part  of  the  German  Empire,  suffers  from  distorted 
perspective  and  conceals  some  of  the  main  factors  in  the 
problem . 


106  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


In  its  modern  form  German  education  is  a  federal  unity, 
comprising  great  differences  of  tone  and  temper  in  various 
parts  of  the  Empire.  But  the  whole  is  skilfully  bound 
together  by  arrangements  which  secure  a  sufficient  unity 
of  administration  without  imposing  a  mechanical  uni¬ 
formity  upon  different  traditions  of  culture  and  of  social 
life.  Just  as  in  the  United  Kingdom  the  educational 
tradition  of  England  differs  from  that  of  Scotland  and 
Wales,  and  in  a  still  greater  degree  from  that  of  Ireland, 
so  in  Germany  the  educational  tradition  of  Prussia  is  very 
different  from  those  of  Bavaria,  or  Baden,  or  Wurtemberg. 
These  differences,  and  not  less  the  contributions  made  by 
the  smaller  States  to  educational  progress,  have  been  a 
source  of  strength  to  the  intellectual  life  of  the  German 
Empire  and  have  protected  its  educational  system  from 
the  dangers  of  a  too  uniform  administration. 

Fichte  himself,  though  a  prophet  of  nationalism,  was  a 
nationalist  in  no  narrow  sense.  His  mind  was  always  fixed 
on  the  political  system  of  Europe  and  of  those  countries 
which  had  reached  a  corresponding  stage  in  culture.  Only 
as  conducing  to  the  permanent  welfare  of  the  whole  group 
of  nations  related  to  one  another  by  the  ties  of  a  common 
civilisation,  did  he  insist  upon  closer  organisation  in  the 
national  life  of  each  unit  composing  this  varied  group. 
The  educational  development  of  the  component  parts  of 
what  is  now  the  German  Empire  has  moved  along  the 
lines  of  Fichte’s  wider  ideal.  And  the  interchange  of 
influence  between  the  educational  system  of  Germany  and 
those  of  other  Western  nations  points  towards  the  gradual 
attainment  of  Fichte’s  larger  purpose.  Just  as  the 
problem  of  national  unity  involves  a  balance  between  the 
claims  of  individual  freedom  and  collective  control,  so 
does  the  realisation  of  intellectual  fellowship  among 
nations  depend  upon  a  balance  between  the  claims  of 
national  identity  and  of  international  co-operation.  The 
great  significance  of  the  history  of  German  education 
during  the  nineteenth  century  lies  in  the  double  fact  of  its 


The  History  of  Education 


107 


effective  national  organisation  and  its  far-reaching  inter¬ 
national  relationships. 

Three  things  lie  behind  the  growth  of  German  education 
during  the  last  century  and  explain  its  course. 

The  first  of  these  was  the  educational  policy  of  several 
of  the  German  States  during  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries.  The  School  Regulations  of  Weimar 
in  1619  established  the  principle  of  compulsory  attendance 
at  elementary  schools  as  a  civic  duty.  The  Schul-Methodus 
laid  down  by  Ernest  the  Pious  of  Gotha  in  1642  gave  more 
systematic  effect  to  the  same  principle  of  State  authority 
in  education.  The  Rescripts  of  1716  and  1717  made 
school  attendance  compulsory  in  Prussia  by  Royal  Order. 
And  this  policy  was  consummated  by  the  Allgemeine 
Land-recht  of  1794,  which  formally  declared  schools  and 
Universities  in  Prussia  to  be  State  institutions,  and  their 
establishment  permissible  only  with  the  State’s  previous 
knowledge  and  approval.  The  same  ordinance  required 
all  public  schools  and  educational  establishments  in 
Prussia  to  be  under  the  supervision  of  the  State  and  to  be 
subject  at  all  times  to  its  examination  and  inspection.  It 
also  declared  that  the  teachers  in  all  higher  schools  in 


Prussia  were  to  be  regarded  as  officials  of  the  State.  The 
current  of  administrative  change  in  different  parts  of 
Germany  had  thus  opened  a  channel  for  the  quick  passage 
of  Fichte’s  ideas  into  the  policy  of  Prussia.  Fichte  himself, 
convinced  by  the  experience  of  Pestalozzi,  had  laid  stress 
upon  the  need  for  universal  education.  “  In  one  word,” 
he  said,  “  the  people  ought  to  receive  instruction,  and 
indeed  fundamental,  solid  and  convincing  instruction,  not 
in  religion  only  but  also  regarding  the  State,  its  purposes 
and  its  laws.”  The  realisation  of  these  hopes  was  made 
possible  by  the  prevailing  trend  in  German  administrative 
policy.  A  great  part  of  the  German  nation  was  already 
familiar  with  the  idea  that  it  was  a  right  and  duty  of  the 
State  to  enforce  and  extend  public  education. 

The  second  of  the  facts  which  explain  the  rapidity  of 


108  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


educational  reconstruction  in  Germany  during  the  earlier 
years  of  the  nineteenth  century  was  the  existence  of  a 
strong  and  widely-diffused  intellectual  tradition.  The 
growth  and  power  of  this  intellectual  tradition  may  be 
traced  in  great  measure  to  the  foundation  of  the  University 
of  Halle  in  1694.  Halle  was  the  first  University  to  be 
based  on  the  principle  of  freedom  of  thought  and  teaching, 
and  therefore  the  first  to  assimilate  modern  philosophy 
and  science.  In  University  policy  Hanover  followed  the 
example  of  Prussia  and  founded,  in  1737,  the  University 
of  Gottingen.  The  predominance  which  the  study  of 
theology  had  enjoyed  at  Halle  fell  in  Gottingen  to  the 
study  of  law  and  of  political  science.  The  influence  of 
these  two  Universities  transformed  academic  life  in 
Germany.  The  educated  public  and  the  Governments 
concerned  accepted  freedom  of  research  and  freedom  of 
teaching  as  fundamental  principles  in  University  work. 
The  spirit  of  science  and  of  modern  philosophy  impreg¬ 
nated  the  teaching  of  all  faculties  and  raised  the  faculty  of 
philosophy  to  the  chief  place  in  University  organisation. 
The  new  academic  spirit  penetrated  the  Homan  Catholic 
Universities  of  Germany  and  raised  the  intellectual  level 
of  their  instruction.  In  consequence,  by  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  there  had  been  established  throughout 
Germany  a  strong  intellectual  tradition  which  was  pre¬ 
disposed  to  welcome  a  great  development  of  public  educa¬ 
tion  under  the  supervision  of  the  State.  The  influence  of 
Kant  in  Protestant  Germany  and  the  religious  revival 
(partly  due  to  Homanticism)  in  southern  Germany  pre¬ 
pared  the  way  for  the  acceptance  of  new  plans  of  educa¬ 
tional  organisation  imposed  by  the  State. 

The  third  fact  which  led  to  the  re-shaping  of  the  educa¬ 
tional  systems  of  Germany  during  the  nineteenth  century 
was  the  military  disaster  which  befell  Prussia  in  1806. 
The  supreme  effort  of  Prussian  statesmanship  which,  in  the 
hour  of  national  humiliation,  regenerated  the  State,  gave 
to  Prussia  the  leadership  in  the  new  movement.  The 


The  History  of  Education 


109 


group  of  statesmen  who,  under  the  leadership  of  Stein,  set 
themselves  to  re-create  the  fortunes  of  their  country  made 
universal  compulsory  military  service  and  the  reform  of 
public  education  the  two  cardinal  features  of  the  internal 
policy  of  the  State.  “  Most  is  to  be  looked  for,”  wrote  one 
of  this  group  of  statesmen  in  1808,  “  from  the  education 
and  instruction  of  youth.  Could  we,  by  a  method  grounded 
on  the  internal  nature  of  man,  develop  from  within  every 
spiritual  gift,  rouse  and  nourish  every  noble  principle  of 
life,  carefully  avoiding  one-sided  culture;  could  we  dili¬ 
gently  nurse  those  instincts  on  which  rest  the  force  and 
dignity  of  man — love  to  God,  to  king  and  to  fatherland — - 
then  might  we  hope  to  see  a  generation  grow  up  vigorous 
both  in  body  and  soul  and  a  better  prospect  for  the  future 
unfold  itself.”  There  sprang  from  this  belief  a  boldly- 
planned  policy  in  public  education.  What  the  Prussian 
elementary  schools  owed  to  the  ideas  of  Pestalozzi  and  to 
the  inspiration  of  Fichte,  Prussian  secondary  schools 
found  in  the  guidance  of  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt,  Stiver n, 
Wolf  and  Schleiermacher.  The  rebellious  passion  of 
Pousseau,  his  new  ideal  of  education,  the  power  of  his 
influence  in  turning  men’s  thoughts  from  the  conventional 
value  of  things  to  a  desire  for  realities  and  for  new 
beginnings ;  the  revival  of  Greek  ideals  in  German  thought 
and  literature,  through  the  influence  of  neo-humanism ; 
the  austere  influence  of  Kant  insisting  upon  the  supreme 
value  of  the  good  will ;  the  fire  of  Pestalozzi’s  love  for  the 
poor  and  his  faith  in  the  power  of  education,  worked 
together  in  the  minds  of  the  statesmen  who  built  up  the 
new  fabric  of  Prussian  education  after  the  bitter  experi¬ 
ence  of  national  defeat. 

Within  the  first  forty  years  of  the  nineteenth  century 
were  thus  laid,  upon  the  basis  of  what  had  gone  before, 
the  intellectual  foundations  of  modern  Germany.  Four 
Universities  (Berlin,  1810;  Breslau,  1811;  Bonn,  1818; 
and  Munich,  1826)  were  founded  or  re-organised  during 
this  period.  Specialised  instruction  and  advanced  classes 


110  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


for  original  work  impressed  upon  the  nation  the  view  that 
scientific  research  is  the  main  purpose  of  University 
institutions.  The  new  gymnasien  were  established  under 
the  impulse  of  a  passion  for  the  Greek  ideal  of  life  and 
with  the  aim  of  imparting  general  culture  and  an  all¬ 
round  education  to  the  intellectual  elite  of  German  boy¬ 
hood.  The  beginnings  of  higher  technical  education, 
based  upon  general  culture,  were  successfully  made,  in  all 
cases  by  the  reorganisation  of  technical  institutions 
previously  existing  on  a  more  modest  scale.  Elementary 
education  was  not  only  reorganised  but  quickened  with  a 
new  aim — the  uplifting  of  each  human  being  to  a  higher 
plane  of  moral  and  intellectual  freedom.  For  this  purpose 
nearly  forty  training  colleges  were  established  in  Prussia 
alone,  many  of  them  inspired  by  Pestalozzi’s  ideas.  In 
Prussia  again  the  examen  yro  facultate  docendi,  instituted 
in  1810,  made  the  calling  of  secondary  instruction  in 
Prussia  an  independent  profession.  The  reform  of  the 
leaving  examination  in  1812  unified  the  group  of  higher 
secondary  schools  which  prepared  their  pupils  for  the 
Universities,  and  distinguished  them  from  the  lower 
secondary  schools  with  their  humbler  intellectual  aims. 
In  a  broad  sense,  this  movement  towards  systematic  re¬ 
organisation  was  German  and  not  Prussian  only.  But 
Prussia  took  the  lead  and  influenced  the  course  of 
educational  policy  throughout  all  German-speaking  lands. 

The  second  period  (1840 — 1870)  was  an  era  of  recon¬ 
sideration  chilled  and  darkened  by  reaction.  The  progress 
of  the  Universities  slackened.  Speculative  philosophy 
and  neo-humanistic  philology  had  lost  their  earlier  fire. 
In  the  secondary  schools,  Hellenic  humanism  became  dis¬ 
trusted  as  anti-christian  in  tendency.  Latin  was  encour¬ 
aged  at  the  expense  of  Greek.  Administrators  were 
harking  back  to  the  ideals  of  the  Reformation.  In  the 
elementary  schools  progress  was  checked  by  a  fear  of  the 
political  consequences  of  over-education.  In  1849,  at  a 
conference  of  teachers  in  Prussian  training  colleges,  King 


The  History  of  Education 


111 


Frederick  William  the  Fourth  exclaimed  :  “  You,  and  you 
alone,  are  to  blame  for  all  the  misery  which  the  last  year 
has  brought  upon  Prussia.  The  pseudo-education  of  the 
masses  is  to  be  blamed  for  it.  You  have  been  spreading  it 
under  the  name  of  true  wisdom.  This  sham  education, 
strutting  about  like  a  peacock,  has  always  been  hateful  to 
me.  I  hated  it  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul  before  I  came 
to  the  throne,  and  since  I  became  King  I  have  done  all  I 
could  to  suppress  it.”  Attempts  were  made  to  restore 
elementary  education  to  an  antique  simplicity  of  reading, 
writing,  elementary  arithmetic  and  strictly  dogmatic  reli¬ 
gious  instruction.  The  training  colleges  for  elementary 
school  teachers  were  bidden  to  give  up  their  ambitions  for 
liberal  education.  But  the  era  1840 — 1870,  though  in 
some  respects  a  period  of  reaction,  was  also  a  period  of 
advance.  At  the  Universities  and  in  the  higher  technical 
schools  scientific  studies  established  their  position.  The 
secondary  schools,  under  the  influence  of  Wiese,  began 
to  be  diversified  in  their  plans  of  study,  in  order  to  meet 
the  growing  needs  of  the  commercial  and  industrial  com¬ 
munity;  and  in  elementary  education  the  ‘cutting  back/ 
as  gardeners  would  say,  of  some  of  the  new  shoots 
strengthened  the  plant,  though  at  the  time  it  seemed  to 
maim  it. 

The  third  period,  1870  to  the  present  time,  has  been  one 
of  marvellous  advance,  of  administrative  consolidation 
and  of  bold  educational  engineering.  In  no  part  of  the 
national  life  has  the  rise  of  the  Empire  been  so  vividly 
reflected  as  in  its  educational  achievement.  The  con¬ 
struction  of  the  modern  school  system  of  Germany  will 
stand  out  in  history  as  a  classic  example  of  the  power  of 
organised  knowledge  in  furthering  the  material  prosperity 
of  a  nation.  The  great  achievements  in  German  education 
since  1870  have  been  the  strengthening  of  the  Universities 
by  the  prudent  munificence  of  the  State ;  the  diversification 
of  secondary  schools ;  the  quickening  of  a  new  spirit  among 
the  teachers  and  pupils  in  elementary  education;  the 


112  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


furtherance  of  technical  education  in  all  grades,  but 
always  upon  a  basis  of  liberal  preparatory  training ;  the 
extension  of  the  period  of  compulsory  education  in  many 
parts  of  Germany  so  as  to  cover  the  critical  years  of 
adolescence;  and  (especially  since  1908)  the  reform  of 
higher  education  for  girls. 

To  speak  of  the  educational  system  of  Germany  is,  in 
the  strictest  sense  of  the  word,  inaccurate.  There  is  no 
single  code  for  the  regulation  of  elementary  schools 
throughout  the  Empire.  Attendance  at  continuation 
schools  is  subject  to  laws  which  are  considerably  different 
in  various  States.  The  provision  of  intermediate  or  higher 
elementary  schools  is  diverse  according  to  State  law.  The 
courses  of  study  in  higher  schools  show  considerable 
variety  in  different  parts  of  Germany.  There  is  no 
uniformity  in  any  grade  of  German  education.  No  central 
Education  Department  in  Berlin  controls  the  whole  system 
of  German  schools.  German  education  is  a  federal  unity. 
In  this  lies  its  strength,  its  capacity  for  readjustment  to 
social  needs.  But,  while  able  to  adapt  itself  to  local 
conditions,  it  maintains  an  impressive  uniformity  of 
intellectual  standards,  partly  through  University  influ¬ 
ences  and  partly  through  the  operation  of  the  system  of 
leaving  examinations,  and  the  statutory  conditions  for 
partial  exemption  from  military  service.  It  is  so  organised 
as  to  secure  the  reciprocal  recognition  of  educational  quali¬ 
fications  between  different  parts  of  the  German  Empire. 
Underlying  the  whole  of  it  are  great  intellectual  pre¬ 
suppositions  which  characterise  it  among  the  educational 
systems  of  the  world.  It  exerts  a  united  influence  upon 
the  thought  of  other  nations.  The  provincial  varieties 
which  enrich  and  strengthen  it  do  not  weaken  or  obscure 
the  fundamental  unity  of  the  whole  system. 

It  is  especially  difficult,  however,  to  interpret  the  signifi¬ 
cance  of  the  great  changes  which  have  taken  place  in  the 
educational  system  of  Germany  during  the  nineteenth 
century,  because  we  still  do  not  know  to  what  social  order 


The  History  of  Education 


113 


those  changes  are  leading.  We  cannot  judge  with 
certainty  the  political  tendencies  of  which  they  are  one 
expression.  In  Germany  and  elsewhere  we  can  trace  the 
same  movements  at  work: — The  growth  of  demands  for 
the  better  and  more  prolonged  education  of  the  children  of 
the  working  classes;  the  strengthening  of  secular  control 
in  educational  policy ;  the  preparation  of  efficient  servants 
for  the  public  administration ;  developments  in  the  educa¬ 
tion  of  girls  and  women  which  imply  an  almost  revolu¬ 
tionary  change  in  the  idea  of  the  work  of  women  in  the 
activities  of  the  modern  State;  a  revolt  against  the  older 
forms  of  educational  discipline;  a  reaction  against  the 
over-intellectualism  of  the  older  educational  tradition  in 
the  higher  secondary  schools;  a  desire  to  prolong  the  period 
of  education  for  the  whole  people  so  as  to  include 
the  years  of  adolescence ;  and  the  growing  power  of 
the  central  authority  in  educational  organisation.  German 
literature  on  school  questions  is  as  full  of  criticism  of 
the  existing  order  as  is  the  corresponding  literature  in 
other  countries.  There  are  many  signs  of  impending 
change  even  in  the  great  established  traditions  of  German 
education .  But  the  grip  of  the  existing  organisation  upon 
the  social  forces  of  German  life  is  indisputable.  The 
great  fabric  of  its  administration  remains  intact.  Its 
prestige  is  unshaken.  And  those  chiefly  responsible  for 
educational  administration  in  Germany  are  distinguished 
in  a  remarkable  degree  by  their  openness  of  mind,  by  the 
well  thought  out  precision  of  their  reforms,  and  by  their 
skill  in  contriving  readjustments  of  the  old  tradition  to 
modern  needs. 

II. 

The  crucial  difference  between  the  history  of  German 
education  and  that  of  England  during  the  nineteenth 
century  lay  in  the  different  use  which  the  two  countries 
made  of  the  powder  of  the  State.  In  Germany  that  power 
■was  exercised  unflinchingly,  with  great  forethought  and 

H 


114  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


clearness  of  purpose  and  without  any  serious  resistance 
from  public  opinion.  In  England  it  was  used  reluctantly, 
with  deliberate  rejection  of  any  comprehensive  plan  of 
national  reorganisation  and  in  the  teeth  of  opposition 
which  had  to  he  conciliated  at  every  turn.  Germany 
adopted  without  serious  misgiving  the  principle  that  national 
education  is  a  function  of  the  State;  England  hesitated 
between  two  opposing  theories,  the  theory  of  private  (or  of 
group)  initiative  and  the  theory  of  State  control.  Ger¬ 
many  worked  on  system;  England,  on  compromise.  Eng¬ 
land  attempted  an  accommodation  between  two  conflicting 
principles;  Germany  committed  herself  to  a  consistent 
theory  of  State  control  and  acted  in  accordance  with  it. 
As  a  result,  Germany  has  constructed  an  educational 
system  which  works  with  fairly  simple  machinery;  Eng¬ 
land  has  a  complicated  machinery,  but  no  well-defined 
system  of  national  education. 

The  causes  of  this  difference  in  the  development  of 
national  education  in  the  two  countries  lie  in  the  history 
of  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  rather  than  in 
that  of  the  nineteenth.  The  Thiry  Years  War  in  Germany 
increased  in  each  State  the  authority  of  the  Government  in 
its  control  of  social  institutions,  and  therefore  of  educa¬ 
tional  policy.  The  English  Civil  War,  on  the  other  hand, 
left  behind  it  an  unhealed  division  in  social  ideals  which 
made  centralisation  unpopular  and  Governmental  direc¬ 
tion  of  national  education  impracticable.  In  each  German 
State  the  foundations  of  a  unified  system  of  public  educa¬ 
tion  were  laid  during  the  eighteenth  century.  In  England, 
there  were  attempts  at  such  unification,  but  each  attempt 
was  foiled  by  the  resistance  of  a  large  and  resolute 
minority.  Before  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century  the 
right  of  the  State  to  determine  the  main  lines  of  action  in 
every  grade  of  education  had  become  an  accepted  principle 
of  government  in  Germany;  but  in  England  the  closing 
years  of  the  eighteenth  century  found  the  nation  still 
unprepared  to  entrust  to  the  central  government  the  super- 


The  History  of  Education 


115 


vision  of  tlie  principles  upon  which  the  rising  generation 
should  be  trained. 

It  was  through  Scottish  influence  that  English  opinion 
was  gradually  prepared  to  accept  the  modern  form  of  State 
intervention  in  educational  affairs.  Had  it  not  been  for 
the  clearly  recognised  merits  of  the  public  elementary 
schools  in  Scotland,  and  for  the  influence  of  writers  like 
Adam.  Smith,  the  reluctance  of  England  to  approve  State 
action  in  educational  matters  might  have  continued  over  a 
much  longer  time.  But  as  England  and  Scotland  were 
brought  into  ever  closer  relationship  in  politics  and  trade, 
Scottish  thought  and  experience  gained  greater  influence 
in  England,  and  finally  proved  sufficient  to  turn  the  scale 
in  favour  of  State  intervention.  When  such  intervention 
was  at  last  decided  upon,  the  English  Government  was 
careful  to  avoid  any  appearance  of  State  monopoly,  even 
in  elementary  education,  and  to  work  in  alliance  with 
various  organisations  which  represented  opposing  elements 
in  English  life.  The  result  was  that  the  great  educational 
development  of  the  nineteenth  century,  aided  in  Germany 
by  an  uncompromising  acceptance  of  the  supreme  authority 
of  the  State,  did  not  proceed  in  England,  as  might  other¬ 
wise  have  been  the  case,  upon  the  opposite  principle  of 
free  initiative  combined  with  charitable  enterprise,  but 
upon  a  mixed  principle  which  recognised  the  value  of 
individual  freedom,  of  philanthropic  association  and  of 
State  interference,  without  assigning  to  each  its  own 
province  of  effort  or  attempting  scientifically  to  define  it. 

It  was  in  Ireland  that  for  political  reasons  the  British 
Government  first  took  an  active  part  in  guiding  and 
subsidising  educational  effort.  The  influence  of  Ireland 
therefore  upon  English  educational  policy  has  been 
stronger  than  the  great  administrative  and  other  differ¬ 
ences  between  the  Irish  and  English  systems  of  education 
would  at  first  lead  the  student  to  expect.  The  writings  of 
Bichard  Lovell  Edgeworth  and  his  daughter;  the  strenuous 
and  far-seeing  labours  of  Sir  Thomas  Wyse;  the  precedents 


116  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

set  by  Government  subsidy  to  various  grades  of  education 
in  Ireland ;  and  (especially  during  the  last  twenty  years) 
the  sympathy  of  the  Irish  Nationalist  Party  in  the  British 
Parliament  with  denominational  influences  in  English 
education,  have  all  left  their  mark  upon  English  educa¬ 
tional  policy.  Much  light  is  thrown,  therefore,  upon 
English  educational  history  during  the  nineteenth  century 
by  a  study  of  the  educational  development  of  Scotland  and 
Ireland  during  the  same  period,  and  also  by  a  study  of  the 
new  movement  in  Welsh  education,  especially  since  the 
Report  of  the  Committee  on  Intermediate  Education  in 
Wales,  published  in  1881. 

The  distinctive  marks  of  the  period  1800 — 1840  in  the 
history  of  English  education  were  the  deepening  of  the 
spiritual  life  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge ;  the  beginnings 
of  Parliamentary  investigation  into  the  expenditure  of 
educational  endowments ;  the  growth  of  a  new  spirit  in 
the  great  Public  Schools ;  and  attempts  to  develop  elemen¬ 
tary  education  through  the  efforts  of  great  societies 
subsidised,  from  1833  onwards,  from  State  funds.  The 
chief  marks  of  the  second  period,  1840 — 1870,  were  the 
effort  to  modernise  and  develop  University  studies  and  to 
improve  methods  of  academic  administration,  especially 
by  the  removal  of  ecclesiastical  restrictions ;  Parliamentary 
investigation  into  the  work  of  the  secondary  schools  both 
of  the  higher  and  lower  grade,  with  resulting  reforms  in 
their  administration  and  curricula ;  the  encouragement  of 
technical  education,  especially  for  the  artisans;  the 
establishment  of  a  department  of  State  for  the  supervision 
of  State-aided  elementary  schools  and  training  colleges ; 
and  extending  efforts  for  the  diffusion  of  elementary 
education  throughout  the  country.  The  distinctive  marks 
of  the  third  period,  1870  to  the  present  time,  have  been 
the  recognition  of  elected  local  authorities  as  responsible- 
agents  in  the  administration  of  elementary,  secondary  and 
technical  education  within  their  areas,  and  the  entrusting 
to  them  of  large  powers  of  levying  rates  for  educational 


The  History  of  Education 


117 


purposes ;  the  establishment  of  the  principle  of  compulsory 
education;  the  further  development  of  technological 
instruction,  both  in  its  higher  and  more  elementary  forms ; 
the  liberal  encouragement  and  rapid  growth  of  educational 
opportunities  for  girls  and  women ;  the  foundation  of  new 
Universities  and  great  developments  in  the  activities  of 
the  older  Universities;  signal  improvements  in  the  profes¬ 
sional  training  of  teachers,  the  strengthening  of  profes¬ 
sional  feeling  and  a  raising  of  professional  standards 
among  teachers  in  every  grade  of  school;  a  remarkable 
growth  in  the  care  for  the  physical  condition  of  school 
children  and  in  the  importance  attached  to  medical 
inspection  and  treatment  as  a  factor  in  educational  policy ; 
and  finally  a  steady  growth  in  the  power  of  the  State  in 
the  supervision  and  control  of  public  education. 

Thus  the  first  period  was  one  of  educational  awakening ; 
the  second  period,  one  of  confused  growth  in  educational 
activities,  retarded  through  conflict  between  opposing 
ideas  of  administration ;  while  the  third  period  has  seen  the 
gradual  recognition  of  the  public  value  of  an  educational 
system  which  is  systematically  developed  and  progressive 
in  all  its  grades.  The  idea  of  the  place  of  the  State  in  the 
organisation  of  public  education  has  become  more  complex 
during  the  century.  At  first  it  appeared  simple;  in  the 
second  period,  dangerous  on  account  of  its  indefinite  possi¬ 
bilities  of  expansion;  in  the  third,  it  has  been  recognised 
as  inevitable,  but  as  requiring  great  counterchecks  in 
organised  public  opinion,  in  the  statutory  powers  of  local 
authorities  and  in  the  due  recognition  of  parental  prefer¬ 
ences  with  regard  to  the  education  of  children. 

In  the  first  period,  compulsory  education,  though 
discussed,  was  definitely  rejected  as  a  method  of  public 
policy.  In  the  second  period,  experience  became  conclusive 
that  without  some  measure  of  compulsion  educational 
destitution  could  not  be  grappled  with.  In  the  third 
period,  compulsory  education  was  adopted  as  an  axiom  of 
State  policy  in  the  whole  of  Great  Britain,  and  its  enforce- 


118  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


inent  has  become  a  commonplace  of  our  social  life.  During 
the  nineteenth  century  the  idea  of  the  education  which 
should  be  given  to  the  poorer  classes  of  the  community 
has  been  revolutionised.  The  value  of  technical  instruction, 
combined  with  secondary  and  University  education,  as  a 
factor  in  the  economic  power  of  the  State,  has  been  slowly 
but  decisively  admitted.  The  claims  of  religious  authori¬ 
ties  to  control  public  education  have  been  profoundly 
modified,  and  have  given  way  before  a  steady  increase  in 
the  authority  of  the  central  government  and  local  elected 
bodies. 


III. 

The  salient  contrasts  between  the  history  of  education 
in  Germany  and  in  England  during  the  nineteenth  century 
show  how  deeply  the  growth  of  the  school-system  in  the  two 
countries  has  been  affected  by  differences  in  political  and 
social  environment. 

The  great  task  of  German  statesmen  during  the  earlier 
part  of  the  century  was  to  build  up  national  unity  upon  a 
framework  of  intellectual  organisation.  In  England 
national  unity,  already  in  great  measure  secured,  seemed 
(in  the  judgment  of  the  majority  of  the  governing  classes) 
likely  to  be  endangered  rather  than  enhanced  by  any 
attempt  at  great  changes  in  public  education. 

In  England  the  early  success  of  industry  and  commerce 
strengthened  the  prestige  of  individualism  and  discounted 
proposals  for  increasing  the  administrative  authority  of 
the  State.  In  Germany,  at  a  somewhat  later  date,  the 
need  for  an  extension  of  German  industry  and  commerce 
into  markets  already  occupied  by  competitors  favoured  the 
idea  of  State  action,  especially  in  the  sphere  of  intellectual 
preparation  for  the  scientific  handling  of  economic 
problems. 

In  Germany  the  Crown,  by  means  of  a  highly  organised 
but  inexpensive  system  of  secondary  and  higher  education, 
drew  betimes  the  elite  of  the  sons  of  the  middle  class  into 


The  History  of  Education 


119 


the  ranks  of  the  higher  civil  service.  In  England  the 
forces  of  democracy,  though  disorganised  and  ill-defined, 
became  politically  effective  earlier  than  in  Germany  and 
were  sufficiently  strong  (in  combination  with  the  distrust 
of  State  action  which  was  traditional  in  our  middle  class) 
to  prerent  early  steps  being  taken  for  any  comprehensive 
reconstruction  of  the  system  of  secondary  schools  under 
State  supervision,  as  being  of  special  advantage  to  those 
whose  parents  were  able  to  give  them  a  prolonged  educa¬ 
tion  in  early  life. 

V 

The  conditions  of  life  in  different  parts  of  England  were 
so  various  that  nothing  but  a  provincial  or  local  organisa¬ 
tion  would  have  been  advisable  in  the  reform  of  our 
education.  But  the  absence  of  any  complete  system  of 
local  government  till  1888  left  us  without  the  necessary 
basis  for  educational  reorganisation.  In  Germany,  however, 
the  structure  of  local  government  was  already  complete 
when  educational  reorganisation  became  necessary. 

The  old  aristocratic  order  in  English  life  was  suspicious 
of  any  wide  diffusion  of  intellectual  opportunity  and 
distrustful  of  any  popular  education  not  under  its  own 
social  control.  But  it  was  not  strong  enough  to  organise 
national  education  without  the  aid  of  the  middle  class  or 
intellectually  far-seeing  enough  to  realise  the  importance 
of  securing  its  co-operation  in  such  a  policy.  In  Germany, 
in  the  early  years  of  the  nineteenth  century,  political 
necessity  compelled  the  governing  classes  to  avail  them¬ 
selves  of  the  intellectual  vigour  of  the  middle  class  in  the 
work  of  public  administration  by  means  of  a  carefully 
articulated  and  easily  accessible  system  of  secondary 
schools. 

There  was  a  stronger  and  more  widely  diffused  intellec¬ 
tual  tradition  in  Germany  than  in  England,  a  greater  sense 
of  the  national  importance  of  the  things  of  the  mind.  In 
Germany  there  was  a  strong  educational  tradition;  in 
England,  a  variety  of  strong  social  traditions,  though  these 
were  traditions  of  social  groups  rather  than  that  of  a 


120  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

unified  national  life.  Yet  there  was  a  sharper  feeling  of 
class  distinction  in  Germany  than  in  England,  and  these 
class  distinctions  produced  in  secondary  education  a  tacit 
alliance  between  the  upper  and  the  middle  classes  which 
resulted  in  a  more  effective  administrative  distinction 
between  higher  and  elementary  education  than  was 
consistent  with  the  milder  habit  of  class  feeling  in  Eng¬ 
land. 

Once  established,  the  State  control  of  education  grows 
by  its  own  weight  and  is  protected  from  reversal  by  the 
vested  interests  which  it  produces  and  by  the  complexity 
of  its  influence.  Modern  forms  of  State  control  are  at 
least  three  generations  older  in  German  than  in  English 
education.  They  are  now  firmly  rooted  (though  still  im¬ 
perfectly  developed)  in  English  education,  but  it  is  still 
too  soon  to  measure  their  effects. 

The  present  controversies  as  to  methods  of  character- 
training  and  of  educational  method  are  remarkably  alike 
in  Germany  and  in  England.  But  Germany  starts  with 
a  firm  framework  of  administrative  regulation  affecting 
the  whole  educational  system  from  top  to  bottom;  we  in 
England  have  no  such  tested  fabric  of  administrative 
tradition  in  educational  affairs  but  are  still  divided  into 
more  or  less  uncorrelated  groups. 

“  The  German  man  of  science,”  writes  Dr.  Merz,  “  was 
a  teacher.  He  had  to  communicate  his  ideas  to  younger 
minds,  to  make  the  principles  and  methods  of  research 
clear  ...  to  draw  out  original  talent  in  others,  to 
encourage  co-operation  in  research,  to  portion  out  the 
common  work  to  the  talents  which  surrounded  him.” 
These  characteristics  rose  in  great  measure  from  the 
educational  conditions  under  which  German  science  sprang 
up.  The  educational  system  of  the  country  affected  the 
methods  of  scientific  research ;  scientific  research  in  its 
turn  quickly  affected  the  educational  system.  There  was 
nothing  exactly  comparable  to  this  in  England.  The 
reorganisation  of  German  education  began  from  the  top 


The  History  of  Education 


121 


with  the  reform  of  the  Universities.  This  was  followed 
by  the  development  of  the  higher  secondary  schools.  The 
intellectual  relations  of  the  secondary  schools  to  the 
Universities  were  fixed  by  the  State.  When  the  need  for 
higher  technological  training  became  manifest,  and  the 
Universities  resisted  the  inclusion  of  such  training  in 
their  courses  of  study,  the  Technical  High  Schools  were 
recognised  as  an  alternative  to  the  older  form  of  Univer¬ 
sity  organisation,  but  admission  to  the  Technical  High 
Schools,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Universities,  was  limited  to 
those  who  had  passed  through  a  prescribed  course  of 
secondary  education.  This  led  in  turn  to  a  recognition 
of  the  equal  claims  of  the  different  types  of  secondary 
schools.  This  movement  prepared  the  way  for  the  elabora¬ 
tion  of  special  curricula  for  girls’  schools.  In  the  mean¬ 
time  the  development  of  elementary  education,  and  of  the 
training  colleges  for  elementary  school  teachers,  was 
separate  and  independent,  and,  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  national  life  as  a  whole,  was  balanced  by  the  careful 
development  of  secondary  and  higher  education.  Finally, 
as  a  development  of  elementary  education,  steps  were 
taken  to  organise  an  elaborate  system  of  continuation 
classes,  attendance  at  which  is  in  many  districts  compul¬ 
sory  for  those  who  do  not  attend  secondary  schools. 

In  England,  however,  the  order  of  events  has  been  very 
different.  The  State  left  the  Universities  in  control  of 
the  conditions  on  which  matriculation  to  them  should  be 
allowed.  It  hardly  interfered  at  all  with  the  autonomy 
of  the  higher  secondary  schools.  It  did  not  begin  by 
organising  education  from  the  top  or  as  a  whole.  Till 
late  in  the  nineteenth  century  it  gave  no  grants  in  aid 
of  secondary  education.  The  differentiation  of  the 
secondary  schools  went  forward  in  a  haphazard  way.  The 
new  Universities  and  University  Colleges  were  a  com¬ 
bination  of  Universities  of  the  Scottish  type  and  of 
technical  high  schools.  Apart  from  this,  technical  educa¬ 
tion  was  developed  in  the  form  of  evening  classes  which 


122  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


were  hut  rarely  associated  with  classes  for  day  work  of  a 
more  advanced  type.  The  result  was  that  secondary  educa¬ 
tion  was  much  less  widely  diffused  in  England  than  in 
Germany  among  the  classes  which  were  chiefly  concerned 
with  industry  and  commerce,  and  the  scientific  side  of 
general  education  was  less  systematically  provided  for. 
This  irregular  growth  of  English  education  in  modern 
times  resulted  in  the  scientific  hahit  of  mind  being  less 
general  in  our  industry  and  commerce  than  in  the  German. 

But  English  conditions  have  favoured  the  autonomy  of 
the  secondary  schools  and  have  produced  in  the  best  cases  a 
fine  type  of  corporate  life.  They  allowed  an  early  and 
rapid  extension  of  public  schools  and  colleges  for  girls 
in  response  to  the  demand  for  wider  intellectual  oppor¬ 
tunity  for  women.  They  have  encouraged  self -training 
and  have  rewarded  diligence  in  evening  study.  They 
have  been  the  outcome  of  a  policy  which  has  imposed  little 
restraint  upon  individual  freedom  whether  in  political 
action  or  in  the  expression  of  opinion.  They  have  pro¬ 
moted  individual  initiative  and  the  initiative  of  groups. 
And  they  have  fostered  independence  of  judgment  and 
variety  of  intellectual  outlook  among  the  more  vigorous 
minds  of  the  community. 


IV. 

From  the  time  of  the  Reformation  English  educational 
ideas  and  policy  have  at  intervals  been  strongly  influenced 
by  German  thought  and  by  the  results  of  action  taken  by 
various  German  governments  for  the  improvement  and 
regulation  of  schools  and  universities.  To  Luther  and 
Melancthon,  to  the  Pietists  and  the  Moravians,  to  Fichte 
and  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt  we  can  trace  in  succession  a 
considerable  number  of  the  movements  which,  during  the 
last  three  centuries  and  a  half,  have  produced  great 
changes  in  English  education.  In  the  earlier  part  of  the 
nineteenth  century  a  great  wave  of  German  influence  came 
into  English  educational  thought  through  S.  T.  Coleridge, 


The  History  of  Education 


123 


who,  in  1830,  in  his  essay  On  the  Constitution  of  Church 
and  State  according  to  the  Idea  of  Each,  echoed  the  teach¬ 
ing1  of  Fichte  and  maintained  that  the  aim  of  statesmen 
should  be  ‘  to  form  and  train  up  the  people  of  the  country 
to  obedient,  free,  useful  and  organisable  subjects,  citizens 
and  patriots,  living  to  the  benefit  of  the  State  and  prepared 
to  die  in  its  defence.’  Thomas  Carlyle  did  even  more  than 
Coleridge  to  familiarise  the  English  public  with  German 
ideas  of  State-organised  education,  especially  in  Past  and 
Present  (1843)  and  in  Latter-Day  Pamphlets  (1850).  At 
an  earlier  time,  throughout  the  great  speeches  on  educa¬ 
tion  made  in  Parliament  by  Brougham,  Roebuck  and  others 
during  the  years  1833-35,  German  precedent  for  compul¬ 
sory  education  was  quoted  as  a  proof  of  the  practicability 
of  making  elementary  instruction  obligatory  by  law.  But 
it  was  through  the  Prince  Consort  that  enlightened  German 
ideas  as  to  the  action  of  the  State  in  public  education  were 
most  widely  extended  in  political  and  official  circles  in 
England.  During  the  twenty-one  years  of  his  residence  in 
England,  Prince  Albert  succeeded,  with  the  help  of  Lyon 
Playfair  and  others,  in  developing  the  State  Department 
of  Art  and  Science  and  in  promoting  wise  extensions  of 
State  activity  in  elementary  and  technical  education. 

The  success  of  the  Prussian  army  in  the  war  with 
Austria  in  1866  drew  attenton  to  the  military  value  of  the 
intelligence  and  discipline  which  had  been  diffused 
throughout  the  German  people  by  the  elaborate  organisa¬ 
tion  of  State-aided  schools.  The  impression  thus  produced 
upon  the  public  mind  was  one  factor  which  led  to  the 
carrying  of  the  Elementary  Education  Act  in  1870  and 
to  the  subsequent  adoption  in  1876  of  the  principle  of 
compulsory  education. 

Of  all  recent  English  writers,  Matthew  Arnold  was  the 
most  successful  in  drawing  the  attention  of  responsible 
English  administrators  to  the  importance  of  German 
methods  of  educational  organisation.  He  popularised  the 
idea  of  State-aided  secondarv  education.  He  showed  that 


124  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


a  study  of  German  achievements  in  the  sphere  of  educa¬ 
tional  policy  was  indispensable  to  British  statesmen.  His 
reports  are  classical.  And  they  were  the  forerunners  of 
a  long  series  by  other  hands.  It  would  be  just  to  say 
that  he  slurred  over  the  great  political  difficulties  which 
would  at  once  confront  any  statesman  who  attempted  to 
set  up  in  England  the  administrative  machinery  of 
German  education .  He  said  with  very  little  qualification 
what  may  be  said  in  praise  of  the  German  system,  and 
with  as  little  qualification  what  may  be  said  in  dispraise 
of  the  English.  But  he  impressed  upon  his  fellow-country¬ 
men  a  higher  ideal  of  what  the  State  may  aim  at  in  the 
diffusion  of  culture,  and,  directly  or  indirectly,  the  more 
recent  trend  of  English  policy  in  higher  and  secondary 
education  is  due  in  considerable  measure  to  the  influence 
of  what  he  wrote. 

Of  all  foreign  influences  upon  English  educational 
thought  during  the  last  forty  years  the  German  has  been, 
with  the  exception  of  the  American,  the  most  formative 
and  penetrating.  It  has  touched  every  grade  of  our 
education  from  the  Kindergarten  to  the  University.  To 
Froebel  and  his  followers  has  been  mainly  due  the  more 
gentle  and  spontaneous  training  of  little  children.  The 
official  definition  of  the  purpose  of  the  public  elementary 
school,  now  printed  in  the  code  of  the  English  Board  of 
Education,  bears  the  impress  of  the  ideas  of  Fichte  and 
of  Herbart.  School  hygiene  and  the  medical  inspection 
of  school  children  owe  much  to  German  precedent  and 
research.  Many  of  the  improvements  in  the  methods  of 
teaching  modern  languages  may  be  traced  to  the  work  of 
Professor  Vietor  of  Marburg  and  his  associates.  The  new 
conception  of  the  continuation  school,  at  once  technical  and 
humane,  organised  in  direct  relation  to  industry  but  with 
a  broad  civic  purpose,  has  been  mainly  derived  from 
German  sources,  and  especially  from  the  work  of  Dr. 
Kerschensteiner  of  Munich.  Kor  will  any  historian  of 
English  education  during  the  nineteenth  century  fail  to 


The  History  of  Education 


125 


record  the  far-reacliing  influence  of  many  of  our  citizens 
(men  and  women)  of  German  birth  and  stock,  who  furthered 
the  progress  of  new  educational  ideas  and  institutions  in 
their  own  districts  or  in  the  nation  at  large.  Every  educa¬ 
tional  student  in  England  owes  a  debt  to  what  he  lias  learnt 
from  German  writings  and  from  German  example.  Berlin, 
Jena,  Marburg,  Erankfort-on-Main  and  Munich  have 
each,  in  a  remarkable  degree,  influenced  the  recent  educa¬ 
tional  thought  of  this  country. 

In  three  respects  German  influence  has  been  especially 
strong  in  English  education  during  the  last  seventy  years. 
It  has  supported  the  idea  that  the  State  should  bear  an 
effective  part  in  the  regulation  of  all  grades  of  national 
education.  It  has  stimulated  in  the  highest  degree  the 
scientific  study  of  the  philosophy  of  education  and  of 
methods  of  teaching.  And  it  has  helped  in  securing  a 
more  general  acceptance  of  the  view  that  the  State  can 
increase  the  economic  welfare  of  the  nation  by  the  system¬ 
atic  encouragement  of  liberal  and  technical  education  and 
of  systematic  scientific  research. 

Y. 

In  the  educational  policy  of  a  nation  are  focussed  its 
spiritual  aspirations,  its  philosophic  ideals,  its  economic 
ambitions,  its  military  purpose,  its  social  conflicts.  For  a 
German  or  for  an  Englishman  to  speak  of  his  own  country’s 
educational  aims  is  to  speak  of  its  inner  life,  of  its  inti¬ 
mate  ideals,  of  its  hopes  and  fears,  of  its  weakness  as  well 
as  of  its  strength.  To  attempt  even  this  is  no  easy  task, 
but  to  speak  of  another  country's  educational  system  from 
the  standpoint  of  a  foreign  observer  is  to  hazard  more  and 
to  risk  misunderstanding,  whether  by  lack  of  sympathy 
and  insight  in  criticism  or  by  want  of  discrimination  in 
praise. 

The  educational  systems  of  Great  Britain  and  Germany 
spring  from  and  are  governed  by  closely  related  ideas  of 
life  and  duty.  They  are  far  more  closely  akin  to  one 


126  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


another  than  is  either  of  them  to  the  present  educational 
system  of  France,  for  certain  distinctive  characteristics  of 
which  each  has  a  strong  admiration.  But  during  a  great 
part  of  the  last  century  the  British  and  the  German 
systems  have  traced  almost  opposite  curves  in  the 
history  of  their  growth.  They  have  been  like  two 
pendulums,  swinging  from  the  same  centre  and  with  a 
common  beat  but  moving  always  in  opposite  directions, 
meeting  at  intervals  in  momentary  unison,  but  only  to 
separate  again  in  the  rhythm  of  their  course. 

Just  as  German  educational  ideas  have  influenced 
English,  so  (though  less  conspicuously)  have  English 
educational  ideas  influenced  German.  And,  wdien  allow¬ 
ance  is  made  for  deep-seated  differences  in  administrative 
control,  many  of  the  present  problems  in  German  education 
are  singularly  like  those  which  confront  us  in  England. 
Each  country  is  under  the  influence  of  those  movements  of 
thought  and  feeling  which  pass  with  increasing  rapidity 
from  one  nation  to  another  and  affect  simultaneously  the 
whole  of  Western  Europe.  In  Germany,  as  in  England, 
social  unrest  has  given  a  new  turn  to  educational  thought. 
There,  as  here,  the  development  of  the  physical  powers 
of  children  occupies  an  ever  larger  share  of  the  educational 
administrator’s  thoughts.  And  it  is  partly  due  to  the  study 
of  English  education  that  in  Germany  more  is  heard  than 
heretofore  of  the  importance  of  strengthening  the  corporate 
life  of  the  schools,  not  least  through  the  responsibilities  of 
self-government  among  the  pupils  and  through  the 
discipline  of  school  games  and  of  other  practical  activities. 
Closer  attention  is  being  paid  to  the  problem  of  the 
formation  of  character  as  the  fundamental  purpose  of 
education.  The  value  of  boarding  schools  in  healthy 
country  places  (especially  for  boys  and  girls  of  nervous 
temperament  and  of  delicate  physique)  is  becoming  more 
generally  admitted.  And  the  educational  value  of  artistic 
influences  is  receiving  wider,  though  not  always  discreet, 
recognition. 


The  History  of  Education 


127 


The  primary  forces  in  German  education  are  an  intense 
belief  in  the  power  of  training  and  of  imparted  ideas  to 
develop,  enlighten  and  humanise  both  mind  and  character; 
and  a  belief,  not  less  intense,  in  the  supreme  merit  of 
inner  freedom  of  mind,  to  be  attained  only  by  painful 
discipline  but  compatible  with  narrow  means  and  even 
with  physical  restraints  and  disability.  The  secondary 
causes  which  have  had  their  part  in  giving  German 
education  its  administrative  development  and  its  prevail¬ 
ing  habit  of  thought  (not  always,  it  may  be  conjectured, 
to  the  permanent  benefit  of  the  community)  are  the 
political  need  for  a  highly  developed  State  organisation, 
military  in  some  essential  parts  of  its  structure  and 
authoritative  in  its  control  over  social  and  industrial 
developments;  and  the  fact  that  Germany  has  had  no 
self-governing  colonies  whose  political  influence  has 
reacted  on  the  methods  of  government  at  home,  and  no 
widely  extended  foreign  dependencies  which  have  attracted 
the  adventurous  or  intractable,  while  permitting  them  to 
retain  their  civic  connection  with  the  mother  country. 

Within  recent  years  the  personal  relationships  between 
many  British  and  German  teachers,  and  between  many 
British  and  German  administrators,  have  become  much 
more  intimate  than  was  formerly  the  case.  The  value  of 
this  intimacy  is  very  great.  It  leads  to  a  fuller  under¬ 
standing,  on  both  sides,  of  educational  conditions  which, 
judged  from  an  external  standpoint  only,  are  inevitably 
misunderstood.  It  permits  the  constant  interchange  of 
experience.  It  gives  insight  to  criticism,  and  discrimina¬ 
tion  to  praise.  German  and  British  education  have  much 
to  gain  from  a  closer  understanding.  But  both  are  deeply 
rooted  in  history,  and  some  of  the  finest  qualities  of  the  one 
cannot  be  superadded  to  the  finest  qualities  of  the  other. 


VI. — THE  HISTORY  OF  THEOLOGY 

BY 

A.  S.  PEAKE,  D.D. 


i 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THEOLOGY.1 


The  task  of  attempting  to  cover  in  so  brief  a  space  the 
whole  field  of  German  theology  during  the  nineteenth 
century,  would  be  so  impracticable,  that  I  have  limited 
myself  to  Systematic  Theology  and  Biblical  Criticism. 
Even  with  this  restriction,  the  field  is  so  wide  that  I  am 
glad  to  be  able  to  refer  for  the  the  background  to  Prof. 
Herford’s  lecture,  and  also  to  be  exonerated  from  the  duty 
of  touching  on  the  development  of  philosophy,  which  its 
intimate  connexion  with  theology  would  otherwise  have 
necessitated.  It  has  been  inevitable  that  many  names, 
which  would  have  deserved  attention  in  a  record  with  any 
pretence  to  completeness,  should  here  be  passed  over  in 
silence  or  simply  accorded  the  barest  mention.  It  has 
seemed  to  me  desirable  to  restrict  mvself  for  the 
most  part  to  the  outstanding  names,  and  deal  with  these 
with  a  fulness  which  I  trust  will  not  seem  dispropor¬ 
tionate.2  Ho  apology  will  be  needed  for  the  omission  of 

1.  I  have  to  thank  my  colleague,  Dr.  Robert  Mackintosh,  for  his 
kindness  in  reading  the  text  of  the  lecture  and  making  several  sugges¬ 
tions  to  me.  He  is  not  to  be  held  responsible  for  any  of  the  opinions 
expressed,  and  is  probably  not  always  in  agreement  with  them.  But  I 
have  been  glad  to  benefit  by  his  expert  knowledge,  especially  in  the 
section  on  Ritschl. 

2.  Good  bibliographies  on  the  outstanding  figures  are  to  be  found  in 
Herzog-Hauck’s  Realencyclopcedie  fur  Protestantische  Theologie  und 
Kirche;  the  two  supplementary  volumes  (1913)  should  not  be  overlooked. 
The  New  S  chaff -Herzog  Encyclopaedia  may  be  recommended  for  this 
purpose  to  those  who  have  not  access  to  Herzog-Hauck.  I  add  here  a 
brief  bibliography  of  works  that  cover  the  whole  or  a  large  part  of  the 
field,  reserving  the  literature  on  individual  theologians  or  movements 
till  I  come  to  speak  of  them  in  the  course  of  the  lecture.  Where 
English  translations  are  available  I  have  referred  to  these  in  preference 
to  the  originals.  I  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to  insert  lengthy  lists 
of  the  writings  of  the  theologians  or  critics  with  whom  I  deal,  nor  do  I 
repeat  with  reference  to  them  the  books  which  treat  of  the  subject  as 


132  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


German  theologians  of  the  Homan  communion,  nor  do  I 
need  to  explain  that  this  is  due  to  no  depreciation  of  their 
great  contributions  to  theological  scholarship,  but  to  the 
fact  that  their  theology  does  not  possess  a  nationalist 
character. 

When  Sclileiermacher  2a  died  in  1834,  Neander  said  to 
his  students,  “  We  have  lost  a  man  from  whom  will  be 
dated  henceforth  a  new  era  in  the  history  of  theology.” 
Time  has  justified  this  verdict  from  the  lips  of  a  scholar 
who,  alike  as  Schleiermachers  pupil  and  colleague  and  as  a 
master  of  Church  History,  was  exceptionally  well-qualified 
to  pronounce  it.  Among  all  the  theologians  of  the 
nineteenth  century  he  was,  it  can  hardly  be  questioned,  the 
most  influential,  the  one  to  whom  the  epithet  epoch-making 
can  most  fitly  be  assigned.  The  publication  of  his  famous 
“  Speeches  on  Religion  to  the  Cultured  among  those  who 

a  whole.  Lichtenberger,  History  of  German  Theology  in  the  Nineteenth 
Century  (1889)  ;  Pfleiderer,  The  Development  of  Theology  in  Germany 
since  Kant,  and  its  Progress  in  Britain  since  1825  (1890)  ;  Dorner, 
History  of  Protestant  Theology,  vol.  ii  (1871)  ;  Frank,  Geschichte  und 
Kritih  der  neueren  Theologie  (1898) ;  W.  Adams  Brown,  The  Essence  of 
Christianity  (1903)  ;  Oman,  The  Problem  of  Faith  and  Freedom  in  the 
Last  Two  Centuries  (1906)  ,  E.  C.  Moore,  An  Outline  of  the  History  of 
Christian  Thought  since  Kant  (1912)  ;  Kattenbusch,  Von  Schleiermacher 
zu  Ritschl  (1892).  The  relevant  articles  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica, 
in  Herzog-Hauck,  and  in  the  New  Schaff -Herzog  Encyclopaedia  may  be 
consulted.  The  last  gives  a  summary  of  the  German  articles  in  Herzog - 
Hauck.  On  the  earlier  period,  A.  M.  Fairbairn,  The  Place  of  Christ 
in  Modern  Theology  (1893)  ;  Matheson,  Aids  to  the  Study  of  German 
Theology  (1874)  :  V.  F.  Storr,  The  Development  of  English  Theology 
in  the  Nineteenth  Century,  1800 — 1860  (1913)  ;  Baur,  Kirchengeschichte 
des  neunzehnten  Jahrhunderts  (1877)  ;  Baur,  V orlesungen  uber  die 
christliche  Dogmengeschichte,  vol.  iii,  (1867);  Schweitzer,  Von  Reimarus 
zu  Wrede  (1906),  Eng.  trans.  The  Quest  of  the  Historical  Jesus  (1910)  ; 
Geschichte  der  paulin.  F orschung  (1911)  ;  Eng.  trans.  Paul  and  his 
Interpreters  (1912). 

2a.  For  Schleiermacher,  see  Dilthey,  Schleiermacher' s  Leben  (1870) 
(the  first  volume  only  was  published,  which  is  very  unfortunate  in  view 
of  its  excellence) ;  Aus  Schleiermacher’ s  Leben  in  B'nefen  (1850),  Eng. 


The  History  of  Theology  133 

Disdain  it,”  3  fell  just  outside  our  limits,  since  it  was 
given  to  the  world  in  1799.  But  it  would  probably  be  no 
exaggeration  to  say  that,  beyond  any  book  since  published, 
it  has  moulded  and  stimulated  men’s  thoughts  on  religion. 
It  is  with  this  book  that  our  story  must  begin.  Many 
influences  had  gone  to  its  making.  Its  author  was  the  son 
of  an  orthodox  and  pious  military  chaplain  belonging  to 
the  Reformed  Church.  He  was  educated  by  the 
Moravians,  within  the  rather  narrow  limits  permitted  in 
their  community.  Here  he  gained  an  insight  he  never 
lost  into  the  essential  quality  of  religion,  though  as  he 
advanced  in  independence  of  judgment,  he  foimd  its 
coveted  experiences  artificial  and  its  intellectual  limita¬ 
tions  intolerable.4  He  came  under  the  influence  of  Plato, 
and  his  interpretation  of  Plato’s  philosophy  and  translation 
of  his  works  greatly  contributed  to  the  deeper  and  truer 
appreciation  of  Platonism  in  Germany.  Among  modern 

trans.  by  Frederica  Rowan.  The  Life  of  Schleiermacher  as  Unfolded  in 
his  Autobiography  and  Letters  (1860).  The  literature  on  Schleiermacher 
in  German  is  very  extensive ;  in  English  there  is  comparatively  little, 
special  mention  may  be  made  of  Schleiermacher :  a  Critical  and 
Historical  Study ,  by  W.  B.  Selbie  (1913),  and  Schleiermacher ,  Personal 
and  Speculative ,  by  R.  Munro  (1903).  Of  the  German  works  the 
following  may  be  named  :  Strauss,  Charakteristiken  und  Kritiken  (1839) ; 
Schaller,  V orlesungen  iiber  Schleiermacher  (1844)  ;  Fischer,  Schleier- 
maclier  (1899).  For  literature  on  the  “Reden  iiber  die  Religion”  see 
the  next  note,  and  for  “  Die  christliche  Glaube,”  see  below,  p.  138. 

3.  Reden  iiber  die  Religion  an  die  Gebildeten  unter  ihren  V erachtern ; 
Eng.  trans.  by  J.  Oman,  On  Religion:  Speeches  to  its  Cultured  Despisers 
(1893).  See  A.  Ritschl,  Schleiermacher' s  Reden  iiber  die  Religion ,  und 
Hire  N  achwirkungen  auf  die  evangelische  Kirche  Deutschlands  (1874)  ; 
O.  Ritschl,  Schleiermacher' s  Stellung  zum  Christentum  in  seinen  Reden 
iiber  die  Religion  (1888).  On  Lipsius’  article  and  Piinjer’s  critical 
edition,  see  below,  p.  137. 

4.  For  Schleiermacher’s  relations  with  his  father  and  the  Moravians 
and  his  religious  struggles,  see  especially  the  letters  which  passed 
between  Schleiermacher  and  his  father,  The  Life  of  Schleiermacher  as 
unfolded  in  his  Autobiography  and  Letters ,  vol.  i,  pp.  46 — 69,  and  the 
fragment  of  autobiography  prefixed  to  the  letters,  pp.  5 — 12. 


134  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


philosophers  he  was  specially  impressed  by  Spinoza  and 
Kant  and  to  some  extent  by  Schelling.  He  was  one  of 
the  most  widely  cultured  men  of  his  time,  and  his  close 
relations  with  the  Romantic  Movement  and  its  leaders 
gave  him  an  insight  into  the  type  of  mind  to  which  the 
Speeches  are  specially  addressed.  Yet  while  he  drew  from 
many  sources  he  was  not  mastered  by  them.  His  own 
personality  remained  dominant  and  fused  the  material 
they  offered  him  into  a  new  and  independent  system.  He 
was  many-sided  beyond  most  of  his  contemporaries,  a 
philosopher  of  great  depth  and  originality,  but  still  more 
significant  in  the  realm  of  theology,  an  accomplished 
humanist,  a  magnetic  orator,  who  stood  in  the  line  of 
Germany’s  greatest  preachers,  an  ecclesiastical  statesman 
of  lofty  principles  and  rare  courage.  Much  of  his 
influence  was  due  to  the  fact  that  in  his  widely  cultured 
and  sympathetic  personality  the  best  tendencies  and 
characteristics  of  his  age  found  their  completest  incarna¬ 
tion. 

The  “  Speeches  on  Religion  ”  were  not  actually 
delivered.  They  were  specially  designed  for  those  who 
from  the  standpoint  of  culture  looked  down  on  religion 
as  a  superannuated  absurdity.  There  was  indeed  some 
excuse  for  this  supercilious  attitude.  Religion  was 
represented  mainly  by  tw'o  types ;  an  arid  orthodoxy  was 
confronted  by  an  equally  arid  rationalism.  In  their 
conception  of  religion  there  was  nothing  in  principle  to 
choose  between  them.  Both  sides  found  the  essence  of 
religion  in  a  series  of  intellectual  propositions.  The 
dogmas  held  were  entirely  different  in  the  two  cases.  The 
orthodox  laid  special  stress  on  the  doctrines  which  were 
peculiar  to  Christianity.  These  the  rationalists  tended  to 
set  aside,  emphasizing  in  their  stead  the  principles  of 
Natural  Religion  as  they  understood  it,  such  doctrines  as 
they  imagined  the  unsophisticated  intellect  left  to  itself 
would  spontaneously  generate.  The  Pietists  had  a  deeper 
and  truer  sense  of  what  religion  was,  yet  they  had  not 


135 


The  History  of  Theology 

broken  away  from  tlie  idea  that  the  current  orthodoxy 
must  be  accepted.  Dogma  was  for  them  also  an  integral 
element  in  religion. 

The  distinction  between  theology  and  religion  had  of 
course  been  drawn  by  earlier  thinkers;  but  Schleiermacher 
has  the  distinction  of  having  carried  it  out  much  more 
systematically  and  thoroughly.  With  his  Moravian 
experience  behind  him  he  found  the  essence  of  religion  in 
feeling.  In  his  great  work  “  The  Christian  Faith,"  he 
described  it  more  specifically  as  a  feeling  of  absolute 
dependence,  a  description  which  drew  from  Hegel  the 
sneer,  barbed  by  personal  dislike  as  well  as  intellectual 
disagreement,  that  on  this  showing  the  dog  should  be  the 
most  religious  of  beings  since  it  exhibited  the  feeling  of 
absolute  dependence  in  the  fullest  degree.5  It  need 
hardly  be  said  that  Schleiermacher  was  not  really  open 
to  the  charge  of  defining  religion  so  crudely  as  to  justify 
such  a  taunt.  When  we  are  dealing  with  a  great 
religious  genius  like  Schleiermacher,  perhaps  the  greatest 
figure  in  this  realm  since  the  Reformation,  and  one  whose 
impact  upon  the  development  of  theology  has  in  all  that 
period  been  unsurpassed,  we  may  regard  it  as  incredible 
that  he  should  have  intended  anything  which  could  have 
been  adequately  characterised  in  so  cheap  a  gibe.  He 
meant  something  much  higher  than  some  pure  gush  of 
emotion  without  any  intellectual  element  or  influence 

5.  Schleiermacher  and  Hegel  were  colleagues  in  the  University  of 
Berlin  for  thirteen  years.  The  former  was  Professor  there  from  the 
foundation  of  the  University  in  1810  to  his  death  in  1834,  Hegel  from 
1818  to  1831.  Their  relations  were  not  cordial,  and  there  was  an  element 
of  wilfulness  in  the  estimate  formed  of  each  other’s  position.  Compari¬ 
sons  between  the  two  systems  may  be  seen  in  Baur’s  Die  christliche 
Gnosis  (1835),  pp.  668 — 671  (this,  it  should  be  remembered,  follows  an 
exposition  of  Schleiermacher’s  dogmatics,  and  introduces  that  of  Hegel’s 
philosophy  of  religion),  Kirchengeschichte,  2nd  ed.,  pp.  368 — 376; 
Dogmengeschichte ,  iii,  349 — 353;  Fairbairn,  Christ  in  Modern  Theology, 
pp.  226 — 229;  Kattenbusch,  Yon  Schleiermacher  zu  Ritschl ,  1st  ed., 
pp.  27 — 35 ;  Oman,  The  Problem  of  Faith  and  Freedom ,  pp.  242 — 255. 


136  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


upon  tlie  will  or  the  conduct.  Finite  and  isolated  selves 
as  we  are,  an  experience  is  possible  to  us  in  which  we 
transcend  these  limitations  and  know  ourselves  to  be  one 
with  the  universe.  For  the  individual  is  at  root  one  with 
the  universal  life,  the  cosmic  energy  finds  its  point  of 
manifestation  in  the  individual  consciousness,  the  life 
which  throbs  in  the  All  pulsates  also  in  the  One.  And 
when  there  comes  to  any  finite  spirit  this  sense  of  the  All 
in  the  One  and  the  One  in  the  All,  in  that  ecstatic  moment, 
that  flash  of  illumination,  religion  is  born.  The  core  of 
the  religious  experience  is  thus  emotional,  but  it  is 
emotion  at  its  highest,  created  by  this  intuition  of  unity 
and  emancipating  the  individual  from  the  finite  by 
making  it  one  with  the  Infinite  life. 

Although  Schleiermacher  would  not  admit  that  the 
charge  of  pantheism  urged  against  him  was  correct,  and 
the  point  has  been  a  good  deal  debated,  the  conception  of 
the  universe  involved  in  this  representation  of  religion  is 
probably  pantheistic.  He  seems  to  have  lost  and  never  to 
have  regained  a  clear,  strong  hold  upon  the  personality  of 
God.  His  oft-quoted  panegyric  on  Spinoza  6  is  eloquent 
of  his  affinities,  though,  as  Strauss  pointed  out,  it  describes 
a  Spinoza  with  a  likeness  to  Schleiermacher  which  the  real 
Spinoza  did  not  exhibit.7  It  is  a  question,  however,  which 
deserves  some  attention  whether  he  moved  towards  a  more 
definitely  Christian  position  than  that  held  by  him  when 
he  wrote  the  Speeches.  Some  have  charged  him  with 

6.  “  Offer  with  me  reverently  a  tribute  to  the  manes  of  the  holy, 
rejected  Spinoza.  The  high  World-Spirit  pervaded  him;  the  Infinite 
was  his  being  and  his  end ;  the  Universe  was  his  only  and  his  everlasting 
love.  In  holy  innocence  and  in  deep  humility  he  beheld  himself  mirrored 
in  the  eternal  world,  and  perceived  how  he  also  was  its  most  worthy 
mirror.  He  was  full  of  religion,  full  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Wherefore 
he  stands  there  alone  and  unequalled ;  master  in  his  art,  yet  without 
disciples  and  without  citizenship,  sublime  above  the  profane  tribe  ” 
(Eng.  trans.,  p.  40). 

7.  Strauss,  Charakteristiken  und  Kritihen ,  p.  25,  a  judgment  endorsed 
by  Baur,  Kirchengeschichte ,  p.  99. 


The  History  of  Theology 


137 


growing  narrower  and  more  timid  with  the  lapse  of  time, 
of  abandoning  his  early  pantheism  for  a  more  definitely 
Christian  view.  It  is  no  doubt  the  case  that  there  is  a 
marked  difference  between  the  first  edition  of  the  Speeches 
and  his  great  dogmatic  treatise.  Changes  were  made  in 
the  successive  editions  of  the  Speeches,  and  Schleiermacher 
appended  a  series  of  explanations  to  them,  designed  to 
bring  out  the  substantial  agreement  in  content,  with  full 
acknowledgment  of  the  difference  in  form,  between  his 
earlier  and  his  later  views.8  We  must  not  forget  that  the 
Speeches  were  intended  for  a  special  class  of  readers,  and 
that  Schleiermacher  had  to  plead  the  cause  of  religion 
with  those  who  held  it  in  scorn,  and  therefore  was  limited 
by  the  very  conditions  of  his  enterprise  to  such  arguments 
as  would  impress  them,  and  was  unable  to  utter  his  full 
mind.  We  may  accept  with  some  confidence  the  conclu¬ 
sion  that  the  movement  of  thought  was  not  so  great  as 
some  have  asserted. 

The  religious  intuition,  which  Schleiermacher  depicts 
in  language  of  youthful  and  at  times  almost  dithyrambic 
eloquence,  was  of  course  an  individual  experience,  the 
fulness  of  which  no  words  could  adequately  describe.  It 

8.  See  what  he  says  on  this  in  the  Explanations  to  the  Second  Speech  : 
“  For  understanding  my  whole  view  I  could  desire  nothing  better  than 
that  my  readers  should  compare  these  Speeches  with  my  Christliche 
Glaubenslehre.  In  form  they  are  very  different  and  their  points  of 
departure  lie  far  apai’t,  yet  in  matter  they  are  quite  parallel.  But  to 
provide  the  Speeches  for  this  purpose  with  a  complete  Commentary  was 
impossible,  and  I  must  content  myself  with  single  references  to  such 
passages  as  seem  to  me  capable  of  appearing  contrary  or  at  least  of  lacking 
agreement  ”  (Eng.  trans.,  p.  105).  In  an  important  article  ( J ahrbiicher 
fur  protestantische  Theolocjie ,  1875)  Lipsius  instituted  a  careful  com¬ 
parison  between  the  different  editions.  Piinjer  published  a  critical 
edition  in  1879,  which  gave  the  first  edition  in  the  text  and  the  variations 
of  the  later  editions  in  the  Apparatus.  The  Explanations  were  inserted, 
it  should  be  added,  in  the  third  edition,  which  was  published  in  1821.  A 
convenient  discussion  of  the  question  raised  is  given  by  W.  Adams 
Brown,  The  Essence  of  Christianity,  pp.  158 — 160  ;  a  fuller  examination 
may  be  found  in  the  Introduction  to  the  English  translation. 


138  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


was  immediate  and  personal,  not  drawn  from  any  external 
institution  nor  imposed  by  any  external  authority.  Yet 
it  is  one  of  Schleiermacher’s  conspicuous  merits  that  this 
individualist  conception  of  religion  did  not  lead  him  to 
undervalue  its  social  side.  The  experience  constitutes 
a  bond  of  union,  and  those  of  the  same  time  tend  inevit¬ 
ably  to  combine  in  societies.  The  different  types  of 
religion  find  expression  in  Founders  who  gather  about 
them  those  who  respond  to  their  message,  whose  experience 
is  answered  in  their  own,  and  thus  religions  are  born. 
The  Natural  Religion,  of  which  the  rationalists  talked, 
was  a  mere  artificial  abstraction,  which  had  never  found 
any  true  realisation,  inasmuch  as  genuine  religion  has 
never  existed  outside  these  communities.  If  we  are  to 
understand  the  real  significance  of  religion  we  must 
renounce  the  hope  that  any  flight  of  speculation  will 
reach  it.  It  will  yield  its  secret  only  to  those  who  are 
prepared  for  a  patient  historical  investigation  into  the 
forms  which  it  has  created.  Of  these  there  are  many, 
none  without  worth,  but  Christianity  is  supreme.  It  is 
not  to  be  reduced  to  a  mere  republication  of  Natural 
Religion.  .  The  elimination  of  its  specific  characteristics 
in  the  interest  of  giving  it  a  more  universal  quality  would 
rob  it  of  what  was  most  precious. 

His  system  of  theology  was  expounded  in  his  great  work 
“  The  Christian  Faith/’ 9  In  spite  of  Hitachi* s  deprecia- 

9.  Der  christliche  Glaube  nach  der  Grundsatzen  der  evangelischen 
Kirche  im  Zusarnmenhang  dargestellt.  The  first  edition  was  published 
in  1821.  The  second  (1830-31)  was  considerably  altered.  The  later 
editions  published  since  Schleiermacher’s  death  are  reprints  of  the 
second.  My  edition  is  the  fourth  (1842-43),  and  occupies  the  third  and 
fourth  volumes  of  the  Collected  Works.  It  is  not  very  creditable  that 
no  English  translation  exists ;  but  the  lack  of  it  has  been  largely  supplied 
by  the  admirable  analysis  published  by  G.  Cross  under  the  title  The 
Theology  of  Schleiermacher  (1911).  Special  studies  are  devoted  to  it 
by  Rosenkranz,  Kritik  der  Schleiernvacherschen  Glaubenslehre  (1836), 
and  Clemen,  Schleiermacher’s  Glaubenslehre  (1906).  On  Baur’s  Die 
christliche  Gnosis ,  see  p.  135 


The  History  of  Theology 


139 


tory  estimate  10  we  may  rightly  accord  it  an  epoch-making 
character  in  the  history  of  theology.  It  may  be,  and 
probably  is,  quite  true  that  the  system  it  expounds  existed 
as  a  unity  and  in  its  entirety  in  no  other  mind  than  that  of 
its  author.  But  its  influence,  direct  or  indirect,  on  the 
whole  subsequent  development  of  German  theology,  not  to 
speak  of  all  that  it  has  meant  to  the  study  of  the  subject  in 
other  lands,  can  scarcely  be  overrated.  In  the  strict  sense 
of  the  term  we  ought  not  to  speak  of  a  school  of 
Schleiermacher.  But  the  three  main  types  of  theology 
which  lay  between  him  and  Bits  chi  all  bore  the  marks  of 
his  influence ;  and  Bitschl  himself,  in  spite  of  his  cool  and 
critical  attitude,  owed  much  to  him.  Into  the  details  of 
his  system  it  is  obviously  impossible  for  me  to  go,  but 
some  of  the  more  significant  features  must  be  briefly 
indicated.  I  place  first  its  conception  of  religion.  This 
is  defined  not  simply  as  feeling,  but  as  feeling  of  absolute 
dependence.  As  in  the  “  Speeches,”  the  standpoint  is 
pantheistic,  though  less  noticeably  so ;  and  this  comes 
to  expression  in  the  definition  of  religion  which  has  no 
reference  to  fellowship,  kernel  of  the  religious  experience 
though  it  surely  is.  Yet  the  emphasis  on  feeling  is  one  of 
Schleiermacher s  imperishable  claims  on  our  gratitude. 
In  another  respect  his  work  marked  a  great  advance.  The 
source  of  theology  he  found  in  the  Christian  consciousness. 
Its  material  could  not  be  derived  from  any  external 
authority,  accepted  without  question  and  untested  by 
appeal  to  experience.  With  the  protest  of  the  rationalists 
against  such  uncritical  acquiescence  he  was  in  full 
sympathy.  But  he  entirely  repudiated  the  indifference 
to  history  which  was  blind  to  the  differentia  of  Christianity, 
and  counted  any  religion  valuable  only  in  so  far  as  it 
propounded  dogmas  common  to  all  rational  religions  alike. 
Schleiermacher’ s  historical  sense  was  too  keen  to  allow 

10.  In  the  first  volume  of  his  Justification  and  Reconciliation, 
chap,  ix,  and  of  course  elsewhere. 


140  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


such  an  attitude.  Christianity  was  precious  in  virtue  of 
what  was  peculiar  to  it.  When  it  was  compared  with 
other  religions,  the  important  fact  at  once  emerged  that  it 
accorded  a  unique  place  and  significance  to  its  Founder. 
He  did  not  simply  communicate  a  doctrine  which  could 
then  he  propagated  in  independence  of  him.  He  was 
Himself  an  integral  element  in  the  religion.  The  witness 
of  the  Christian  consciousness  accorded  to  Christ  a  central 
place.  In  thus  making  theology  Christo-centric  he  proved 
once  more  a  pioneer,  whom  many  followed  in  the  path  he 
had  opened  up.  It  is  a  striking  fact  that  Schleiermacher 
was  the  first  theologian  to  give  a  definition  of  Christianity 
in  which  explicit  mention  was  made  of  its  Founder.  His 
definition  is  as  follows  :  “  Christianity  is  a  monotheistic 
form  of  faith  which  belongs  to  the  teleological  type  of 
piety,  and  is  essentially  distinguished  from  others  of  its 
class  by  this,  that  everything  in  it  is  referred  to  the 
redemption  accomplished  by  Jesus  of  Nazareth.”  He 
drew  his  conception  of  Jesus  especially  from  the  Fourth 
Gospel,  which  seemed  to  him  to  present  a  more  authentic 
and  adequate  portrait  than  that  given  by  the  Synoptists. 
This  predilection  for  John,  which  was  not  surprising  in 
a  theologian  so  sympathetic  with  Platonism,  was  charac¬ 
teristic  of  the  theologians  who  stood  specially  under  his 
influence.  On  the  physical  miracles  he  was  disposed  to 
lay  but  little  stress,  but  he  emphasises  the  moral  miracle 
all  the  more,  affirming  not  merely  the  actual  sinlessness, 
but  the  impeccability  of  Christ.  He  lived  within  the 
limits  of  human  life,  yet  He  was  the  archetypal  man,  in 
whom  the  ideal  of  humanity  was  realised.  What  He  is  we 
learn  from  what  He  does.  He  makes  us  sure  of  God,  since 
He  knows  no  shadow  of  misgiving.  He  frees  us  from  the 
thraldom  of  sin,  and  therefore  can  never  have  been 
defeated  by  it.  Himself  unstained  by  sin,  He  participates 
through  His  fellowship  with  our  sinful  race  in  those  evils 
which  justly  affect  us,  but  from  which  He  might  have 
claimed  to  be  immune,  and  He  mediates  the  blessings  He 


The  History  of  Theology 


141 


bestows  through  the  society  He  has  founded,  of  which  He 
is  the  head.  It  may  be  regarded  as  somewhat  surprising 
that  Schleiermacher’s  theology  should  have  been  so 
Christian  as  it  was.  Another  point  that  deserves  to  be 
made  prominent  is  the  emphasis  which  he  laid  upon  the 
religious  community.  This  is  all  the  more  noteworthy 
that  his  idea  of  religion  was  in  some  respects  so  subjective. 
It  is  so  personal  an  experience  to  him  that  one  might  have 
expected  him  to  be  the  prophet  of  an  atomistic 
individualism.  His  attitude  here  was  one  of  the  features 
in  his  theology  that  Bitschl  found  most  congenial.  It  was 
in  the  Christian  consciousness  I  have  said  that  he  found 
the  source  of  theology,  but  this  consciousness  was  collective 
rather  than  merely  individual.  Only  within  the  society 
could  the  individual  attain  his  true  development. 

In  another  respect  he  introduced  a  new  era,  that  is,  in 
his  presentation  of  theology  as  an  organic  whole.  It  had 
been  customary  under  the  influence  of  Melanchthon’s 
“  Loci,”  to  treat  theology  as  a  series  of  strung-together 
doctrines  without  inner  connexion  or  dominating  principle. 
With  Schleiermacher  theology  became  a  system  indeed, 
a  close-knit  organic  unity  radiating  from  a  single  centre. 
His  great  treatise  witnessed  to  its  author’s  exceptional 
architectonic  gift;  but  this  had  already  been  exhibited  in 
the  sketch  he  had  given  of  theological  study.11  Its  quality 
is  such  as  to  draw  from  Eitschl  a  more  whole-hearted 
praise  than  he  will  give  to  his  dogmatic  masterpiece.  He 
refuses  to  accept  the  view  that  Schleiermacher  marked  an 
epoch  as  a  pattern  of  theology  which  was  fruitful  in  its 
results,  but  epoch-making  he  was  as  a  theological  legis¬ 
lator.  No  doubt  Hits  chi’s  estimates  of  Schleiermacher 
require  to  be  received  with  caution.  But  without  assent¬ 
ing  to  his  depreciatory  judgment  of  features  in  the  system 

11.  Kurze  Darstellung  des  theologischen  Stadiums  (1811)  ;  Eng.  trans. 
by  W.  Farrer  under  the  title  Brief  Outline  of  the  St-udy  of  Theology 
(1850)  ;  this  contains  Liicke’s  Reminiscences  of  Schleiermacher. 


142  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


itself,  which  he  had  a  congenital  incapacity  to  appreciate, 
we  must  grant  that  he  is  a  very  competent  judge  whether 
what  gives  itself  out  to  he  a  system  is  a  system  or  not. 

If  then,  before  we  part  with  Schleiermacher,  we  try  in  a 
few  words  to  sum  up  our  impression  of  the  contribution 
he  made,  the  following  points  perhaps  most  deserve 
recognition.  He  made  an  end  of  the  prevalent  confusion 
between  religion  and  dogma,  and  the  less  pernicious  it 
may  be,  but  no  less  mistaken  identification  of  religion 
with  morality.  Not  indeed  that  to  the  author  of  the  first 
scientific  sketch  of  theological  study  doctrine  could  have 
been  a  matter  of  indifference,  nor  yet  morality  to  one  so 
preoccupied  as  he  was  with  ethics.  But  he  was  concerned, 
as  one  wdio  understood  religion,  to  vindicate  its  independ¬ 
ence  and  paint  it  in  all  its  entrancing  loveliness.  As  one 
who  had  drunk  deep  of  its  ecstasy  and  found  in  it  life's 
most  perfect  bliss,  he  could  not  have  reduced  it  to  conduct, 
whether  touched  or  untouched  by  emotion,  nor  imagined 
it  to  be  exhausted  in  a  creed.  The  magic  by  which  it 
transfigures  our  common  life  he  expresses  in  a  noble 
metaphor.  ‘‘A  man's  special  calling,”  he  says,  “is  the 
melody  of  his  life,  and  it  remains  a  simple,  meagre  series 
of  notes  unless  religion,  with  its  endlessly  rich  variety, 
accompany  it  with  all  notes,  and  raise  the  simple  song  to  a 
full-voiced  glorious  harmony.”  He  planned  the  lines  on 
■which  the  wdiole  domain  of  theology  should  be  laid  out  and 
made  of  it  a  thoroughly  organised  science,  mapped  out  in 
bold,  clear  outline.  In  the  field  of  Systematic  Theology 
his  great  treatise  constitutes  a  classic,  apart  from  which 
the  later  movement  of  theology  cannot  be  understood.  He 
banished  the  disregard  of  history  which  had  characterised 
the  rationalist  conception  of  religion  and  its  undue  stress 
on  ideas,  and  made  the  Person  of  the  Redeemer  and  His 
work  central  in  theology.  On  the  other  hand,  his  relation 
to  Scripture  and  traditional  dogmatics  was  much 
more  free  than  that  of  the  orthodox.  Yet  his  ambiguous 


143 


The  History  of  Theology 

attitude  towards  the  personality  of  God  12  and  personal 
immortality,13  due  alike  to  his  pantheistic  tendency, 
gravely  limit  his  claim  to  he  considered  as  an  exponent 
of  Christianity  in  the  full  sense  of  the  term.  And  for  all 
his  sense  of  the  value  to  be  attached  to  history  he  lost  not 
a  little  through  his  failure  rightly  to  appreciate  the 
significance  of  the  Old  Testament  for  the  New,  or  to  see 
how  indispensable  to  Christianity  was  the  religion  out 
of  which  it  grew. 

Schleiermacher  had  insisted,  I  have  said,  on  the 
connexion  of  religion  with  history.  He  had  set  a 

t/ 

historical  figure  in  the  centre  of  his  theology.  But  in 
doing  so  he  had  inevitably  raised  the  question,  What  can 

12.  On  this,  -see  the  Second  Speech,  pp.  92—99,  with  the  Explanations 
pp.  1 1.5 f.  Zeller  published  an  article  on  “  Schleiermacher’s  Doctrine  of 
the  Personality  of  God  ’  ( Theol .  Jahrb.,  1842),  which  Baur  judged  to  be 
so  exhaustive  that  he  thought  it  unnecessary  in  his  Kir cheng eschichte  to 
do  more  than  summarise  his  main  results.  He  adds  his  own  judgment, 
however,  to  the  effect  that  Schleiermacher  cannot  be  acquitted  of 
sophistry  and  diplomacy,  and  indeed  that  one  cannot  suppress  the 
thought  of  an  intentional  deception.  Zeller  himself  edited  the  volume, 
and  added  an  interesting  note  explaining  that  he  felt  unable  to  alter  the 
passage,  since  it  was  significant  for  Baur’s  own  standpoint.  He  could 
not  imagine  it  to  be  possible  that  a  thinker  so  acute  as  Schleiermacher 
should  have  concealed  from  himself  the  patent  contradiction  between 
his  own  and  the  ecclesiastical  dogma  (pp.  213 — 216). 

13.  See  the  Second  Speech,  pp.  99 — 101  with  the  Explanations, 
pp.  117f.  Where  the  emphasis  for  Schleiermacher  lay  may  be  seen  from 
the  closing  sentences  of  the  Second  Speech  :  “  It  is  not  the  immortality 
that  is  outside  of  time,  behind  it,  or  rather  after  it,  and  which  still  is  in 
time.  It  is  the  immortality  which  we  can  now  have  in  this  temporal  life ; 
it  is  the  problem  in  the  solution  of  which  we  are  for  ever  to  be  engaged. 
In  the  midst  of  finitude  to  be  one  with  the  Infinite  and  in  every  moment 
to  be  eternal,  is  the  immortality  of  religion.”  See  also  the  letters  that 
passed  between  him  and  Henrietta  von  Willich  after  the  death  of  her 
husband  in  1807  ( Life  of  Schleiermacher  as  Unfolded  in  his  Auto¬ 
biography  and  Letters ,  vol.  ii,  pp.  77 — 82).  Martineau  discusses 
Schleiermacher’s  doctrine  of  immortality,  with  special  reference  to  these 
letters  in  A  Study  of  Religion,  vol.  ii,  355 — 360  (1st  ed.).  Schleiermacher 
subsequently  married  Henrietta  von  Willich. 


144  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


we  know  of  this  personality  and  will  our  knowledge  justify 
us  in  granting  Him  a  significance  so  momentous  ?  Where 
history  is  admitted,  criticism  will  not  be  denied.  The 
deist  and  the  rationalist  saw  in  Christianity,  so  far  as  it 
was  true,  a  republication  of  the  truths  of  Natural  Religion, 
independent,  for  their  validity  or  acceptance,  of  the 
opinion  entertained  concerning  the  Founder.  For  the 
orthodox  the  question  did  not  arise,  it  was  settled  by 
Scripture  and  the  authoritative  Symbols  of  the  Church. 
But  if  Natural  Religion  was  a  fiction  and  Christianity  was 
a  Christo-centric  religion,  then  the  question,  What  think 
ye  of  Christ  ?  could  not  be  evaded ;  while  if  Scripture  and 
the  Confessions  were  no  longer  binding  what  justification 
could  be  given  for  claims  so  exceptional  made  for  Jesus  of 
Nazareth?  Schleiermacher  found  what  he  needed  in  the 
Fourth  Gospel;  but  Bretschneider’s  “  Probabilia  ”  14  had 
been  published  in  1820,  a  year  before  Schleiermacher’ s 
theological  masterpiece,  the  forerunner  of  a  criticism 
which  has  made  his  position  increasingly  difficult  to  hold. 
His  preference  for  the  Fourth  Gospel  as  containing  the 
most  authentic  portrait  of  Jesus  was  determined  by 
dogmatic  considerations  and  not  securely  based  in  objective 
criticism.  The  year  which  followed  his  death  was  to  see 
the  publication  of  a  work  in  which  criticism  of  the  most 
drastic  order  was  applied  to  the  Gospel  history.  More¬ 
over,  from  another  side  an  influence  of  great  importance 
was  profoundly  affecting  theology;  I  mean  the  influence 
of  philosophy,  and  in  particular  of  Hegelianism.  It  need 
of  course  hardly  be  said  that,  all  along,  the  development 
of  theology  had  been  deeply  influenced  by  the  parallel 
movement  in  philosophy.  Schleiermacher  himself  was 
scarcely  less  eminent  in  one  than  in  the  other,  and  Plato, 
Spinoza,  and  contemporary  philosophers,  from  Kant 
onwards,  had  found  in  him  a  diligent  if  discriminating 
student.  Strauss,  in  fact,  says,  “  None  of  the  leading 

14.  Probabilia  de  evangelii  et  epistolarum  Joannis  apostoli  indole  et 
origine. 


The  History  of  Theology 


145 


propositions  of  the  first  part  of  Schleiermacher’s 
‘  Glaubenslehre  ’  can  be  fully  understood  save  as  they  are 
re-translated  into  the  formulae  of  Spinoza,  from  which  they 
were  originally  taken.”  15  For  the  philosophy  of  Hegel, 
however,  which  was  destined  to  have  the  most  momentous 
influence  on  theology,  he  had  little  sympathy,  and  Hegel 
repaid  him  in  kind.  Mutual  antipathy  accentuated  the 
differences  in  point  of  view  and  prevented  them  from 
realising  such  affinity  as  there  was  between  them.  I 
cannot  of  course  trespass  in  this  lecture  on  the  adjoining 
field,  but  this  reminder  at  least  is  necessary  before  I  begin 
to  speak  of  Strauss  and  the  Tubingen  School.  When 
Strauss  published  his  “Life  of  Jesus”  it  was  commonly 
considered  to  be  an  application  of  Hegelianism  to  the 
Gospel  history  and  the  figure  of  Jesus.16  But  F.  C.  Baur 
points  out  that  we  must  recognise  over  and  above  this  a 
critical  tendency  which  was  not  necessarily,  and  indeed 
had  not  been,  associated  with  that  philosophy.17 

Strauss  18  had  been  a  pupil  of  Baur  at  Blaubeuren  in 
his  youth,  and  he  had  listened  to  lectures  by  Schleier- 

15.  Charakteristiken  und  Kritihen,  p.  166. 

16.  Strauss  expressed  his  own  views  on  Hegel’s  relation,  first  to 
theological  criticism,  then  to  the  Gospel  history,  in  his  Streitschriften » 
Drittes  Heft,  pp.  17 — 94 ;  the  section  dealing  with  the  Gospel  history 
contains  a  catena  of  important  quotations  from  Hegel,  with  comments  by 
the  author.  In  the  earlier  part  Strauss  gives  a  noteworthy  statement 
as  to  the  way  in  which  he  came  to  write  the  Life  of  Jesus. 

17.  Kir cheng cschichte,  p.  380;  Dogmengeschichte,  p.  356.  Cf.  what 
Strauss  himself  says  as  to  Hegel’s  own  attitude  to  historical  criticism 
(“  Hegel  was  personally  no  friend  of  historical  criticism  ”)  and  the 
relation  of  the  system  to  it,  Streitschriften,  pp.  61  f. 

18.  On  Strauss,  see  Zeller,  D.  Fr.  Strauss  in  seinem  Lehen  und 
seinen  Schriften  (1874)  ;  Hausrath,  D.  F.  Strauss  und  die  Theologie 
seiner  Zeit  (1876-78);  Ziegler,  David  Friedrich  Strauss  (198).  On  the 
Leben  Jesu  of  1835  Schweitzer  gives  a  list  of  sixty  works  issued 
during  the  next  few  years  in  Anhang  I  of  his  Von  Reimarus  zu  Wrecle. 
It  is  not  reproduced  in  the  English  translation,  but  ample  information 
is  given  in  chap.  ix.  Schweitzer’s  own  discussions  are  of  particular 
interest. 


146  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


maclier  at  Berlin.  But  Hegel,  to  hear  whom  he  had 
journeyed  to  Berlin,  had  been  removed  by  sudden  death 
in  1831.  The  philosopher’s  teaching,  however,  had  deeply 
influenced  the  young  student,  and  thus  he  was  brought 
to  the  problem  of  Christology.  Too  candid  to  leave  the 
crucial  issues  in  the  ambiguous  twilight  in  which  it  might 
be  felt  that  Schleiermacher  had  left  them,  too  courageous 
to  shrink  from  any  conclusions  because  they  might  prove 
unwelcome  to  himself  or  others,  he  took  up  the  examina¬ 
tion  of  the  Gospels,  with  results  such  as  might  have  been 
anticipated  from  his  presuppositions.  Convinced  that 
Christianity  was  the  religion,  which  embodied  in  symbolic 
form  the  permanently  precious  truth  of  philosophy,  he  felt 
that  he  could  dispense  with  history,  and  detach  the 
religion  from  the  personality  of  its  Founder.  The  idea  of 
incarnation  was  profoundly  true,  but  it  was  the  incarna¬ 
tion  of  the  idea  in  the  race  rather  than  in  the  individual. 
For  the  idea  does  not  realise  itself  in  so  limited  a  fashion. 
“  It  is  not  wont,”  he  says,  “  to  lavish  all  its  fulness  on  one 
exemplar  and  be  niggardly  towards  all  others — to  express 
itself  perfectly  in  that  one  individual,  and  imperfectly  in 
all  the  rest ;  it  rather  loves  to  distribute  its  riches  among  a 
multiplicity  of  exemplars  which  reciprocally  complete 
each  other — in  the  alternate  appearance  and  suppression 
of  a  series  of  individuals.  And  is  this  no  true  realisation 
of  the  idea  ?  Is  not  the  idea  of  the  unity  of  the  divine  and 
human  natures  a  real  one  in  a  far  higher  sense,  when  I 
regard  the  whole  race  of  mankind  as  its  realisation,  than 
when  I  single  out  one  man  as  such  a  realisation?  Is  not 
an  incarnation  of  God  from  eternity  a  truer  one  than  an 
incarnation  limited  to  a  particular  point  of  time.”  19 
Approaching  the  Gospels  in  this  attitude,  he  felt  that 
criticism  need  be  troubled  by  no  scruples  as  to  the  bearing 
of  its  results  on  faith.  Indeed  the  religion  stood  to  gain. 

19.  Life  of  Jesus ,  p.  779.  (I  quote  from  the  second  edition  published 
with  an  Introduction  by  Pfleiderer  in  1892.) 


The  History  of  Theology  147 

The  eternal  ideas  would  thus  be  disengaged  from  their 

setting,  and  when  the  history  was  dissolved  into  myth, 

would  appear  in  their  unalloyed  splendour.  When  thus 

re-interpreted  the  documents  would  he  rehabilitated  in  a 

higher  sense.  Taken  as  literal  history,  their  discrepancies, 

and  in  particular  the  miracles  in  which  they  abound,  were 

an  offence  to  the  culture  of  the  day.  Press  home  the 

*/ 

conclusion  that  documents  so  mutually  contradictory  can 
be  used  only  with  extreme  caution  and  after  the  applica¬ 
tion  of  the  most  rigid  critical  tests;  expose  the  intrinsic 
incredibility  of  the  miracles,  but  also  devise  a  theory 
which  shall  account  for  the  rise  of  such  miraculous  stories ; 
and  religion  will  be  all  the  stronger  if,  driven  from  the 
letter,  it  rises  to  the  spirit. 

The  explanation  that  Strauss  gave  as  to  the  origin  of  the 
narratives  which  had  thus  to  be  eliminated  from  history  is 
known  as  the  mythical  theory.  By  this,  of  course,  it  is 
not  meant  that  Strauss  denied  that  Jesus  was  a  historical 
personage  or  that  we  have  some  well  guaranteed  informa¬ 
tion  about  Him ;  though  it  must  be  confessed  that  Strauss 
was  so  concerned  with  negative  criticism  and  so  little  with 
positive  reconstruction  that  the  extent  of  this  information 
was  very  far  from  clear.  A  theory  much  in  vogue  when 
Strauss  published  his  ‘‘Life  of  Jesus”  in  1835  was  the 
naturalistic  theory.  Its  chief  exponent  was  Paulus.  The 
historicity  of  the  narratives  was  asserted,  but  their 
miraculous  character  was  denied,  by  expedients  sometimes 
not  without  plausibility,  but  in  other  instances  frankly 
grotesque.  Strauss  effectively  disposed  of  this  theory 
which,  in  spite  of  occasional  recourse  to  it  in  detail,  is 
never  likely  to  be  rehabilitated  as  a  whole.  His  own 
criticism  cut  much  deeper.  While  he  denied  that  the 
miraculous  features  of  the  story  were  misunderstandings 
of  actual  events,  he  did  not  regard  the  stories  themselves 
as  conscious  fabrications.  Since  Jesus  was  regarded  as 
Messiah,  it  was  not  unnatural  that  the  beliefs  entertained 
about  His  career  by  His  followers  should  be  more  and  more 


148  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


deeply  coloured  by  Jewish  Messianic  ideas.  These  ideas 
in  their  turn  had  their  roots  in  the  Old  Testament.  The 
origin  of  the  miraculous  stories  in  the  Gospels  was  to  he 
sought  not  in  misunderstanding  and  misdescription  of 
actual  events,  hut  was  due  to  the  conviction  that  the 
Christian  Messiah  could  not  have  come  short  of  the  ancient 
Hebrew  worthies,  nor  could  He  have  failed  to  fulfil  the 
Messianic  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament  or  satisfy  the 
contemporary  Messianic  expectations.  There  was  no 
cunning  invention  in  this  transformation  of  the  actual 
events ;  gradually,  without  premeditation  or  concerted 
action,  through  transmission  in  oral  tradition,  the  com¬ 
munity  refashioned  the  life  of  the  Founder.  Had  the 
First  and  Fourth  Gospels  been  the  work  of  Apostles,  this 
position  would  have  been  more  difficult  to  maintain;  but 
Strauss  affirmed  that  the  tradition  of  apostolic  authorship 
was  not  sufficiently  attested  to  override  the  conviction, 
based  on  examination  of  the  documents  themselves,  that 
the  narratives  were  largely  unhistorical.  The  discrepan¬ 
cies  between  the  Gospels,  the  difficulties  inherent  in  the 
stories  they  relate,  were  exhibited  by  Strauss  with  a 
complete  absence  of  reserve.  The  theory  was  not  new,  but 
the  thoroughness  and  consistency  with  which  it  was 
applied  caused  a  profound  shock.  The  Christ  of  the 
Gospels  became  in  the  critic’s  hands  a  mythical  figure  with 
a  very  indefinite  historical  nucleus.  All  that  genius  and 
rare  endowment  could  do  for  the  task  was  done.  He 
brought  to  the  work  a  familiarity  with  the  literature  of 
the  subject  astonishing  in  a  young  man  twenty-seven  years 
old ;  great  critical  acuteness ;  a  quickness  to  see  and  skill 
to  pierce  the  weak  spots  in  an  opponent’s  argument.  The 
book  owed  much  to  the  brilliance  of  its  style.  Masterly 
in  its  handling  of  the  dialectical  weapons,  with  rich 
resources  of  irony  and  mockery,  illuminated  by  happy 
metaphors,  it  rose  on  occasion  to  a  stately  and  noble 
eloquence.  Yet  it  was  so  preoccupied  with  destructive 
criticism  that  no  clear,  positive  result  emerged.  Those 


The  History  of  Theology  149 

who  took  up  the  hook,  bearing  the  title  “Life  of  -Jesus 
Critically  Investigated,”  with  the  not  unnatural  expecta¬ 
tion  of  finding  a  biography,  however  retrenched,  were 
doomed  to  disappointment.  The  author  was  so  busily 
engaged  in  the  critical  investigation  that  he  did  not  write 
the  Life.  In  the  preface  to  the  third  edition  he  said  : 
“  In  the  darkness  which  criticism  produces,  by  putting  out 
all  the  lights  hitherto  thought  to  be  historical,  the  eye  had 
first  to  learn  by  gradual  habit  to  again  distinguish  a  few 
single  objects.”  But  the  explanation  of  the  narratives  put 
forward  by  Strauss  raised  a  question  which  he  failed  to 
answer.  The  Life  of  Jesus,  which,  in  the  critic’s  judg¬ 
ment,  had  been  lived  wholly  within  the  limits  of  the 
natural,  was  transfigured  under  the  influence  of  Messianic 
theology.  But  how  did  the  community  come  to  regard 
Jesus  as  the  Messiah  and  still  to  believe  in  Him  in  spite 
of  His  accursed  death  on  the  Cross  ?  To  what  extent  does 
this  fact  throw  light  on  the  personality  of  the  Founder? 
How  far  can  we  argue  back  from  the  movement  to  the 
creative  personality  ? 

It  lies  beyond  my  scope  to  follow  the  turbid  stream  of 
controversy  which  had  its  source  in  the  publication  of  this 
book.20  It  was  discreditably  violent  on  both  sides.  But 
notable  criticisms  were  urged.  Strauss  himself  made 
important  concessions,  but  these  were  again  retracted, 
after  the  invitation  to  a  professorship  at  Zurich  had  been 
cancelled  in  deference  to  the  opposition  it  excited.  I 
must,  however,  pass  over  the  refutations  of  the  book  and 
the  author’s  own  vacillations,  that  I  may  speak  of  a  scholar 

20.  Strauss  replied  to  his  critics  in  his  Streitschriften  zur  Verteidigung 
meiner  Schrift  iiber  das  Leben  Jesu  und  zur  CharaJcteristik  dev  gegen- 
umrtigen  Theologie,  a  brilliantly  written,  hard-hitting  work.  The  first 
part  appeared  in  1837,  the  three  parts  in  one  volume  in  1841.  The 
second  of  his  Zwei  friedliche  Blatter,  which  bears  the  title  Vergangliches 
und  Bleibendes  im  Christentum,  is  very  conciliatory  in  tone,  serene  in 
spirit,  and  exquisite  in  style.  In  it  he  claims  that  Jesus  is  to  be  ranked 
as  the  supreme  genius  in  the  highest  sphere,  that  of  religion. 


150  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


and  a  critic  of  much  higher  calibre  .  I  need  hardly  explain 
that  I  mean  Ferdinand  Christian  Baur,  Professor  at 
Tubingen.  I  do  not  mean  to  suggest  that  the  work  of 
Baur  and  the  Tubingen  School  was  more  epoch-making 
than  Strauss’  “  Life  of  Jesus.”  Perhaps  it  was  not.  It 
would  in  any  case  be  difficult  to  pronounce  a  judgment, 
and  I  hardly  feel  qualified  to  offer  an  opinion.  But  as  to 
the  qualities  of  the  two  men  there  is  less  need  for  hesita¬ 
tion.  Baur  had  not  the  dash,  the  velocity,  the  brilliance, 
the  literary  gift  of  Strauss.  But  he  was  more  massive, 
more  thorough,  riper  in  judgment,  with  a  learning  more 
deeply  based  and  wider  in  its  range,  incomparably  greater 
and  more  original  as  a  master  of  method,  fertilising  and 
influential  in  the  advancement  of  the  subject  as  Strauss 
had  it  not  in  him  to  become.  He  was  probably  the  greatest 
figure  in  the  New  Testament  criticism  that  the  century 
has  to  show.  He  moulded  the  subject  for  us  as  no  one  has 
done  before  or  since;  his  theories  are  largely  abandoned, 
but  the  problems  which  he  set  abide.  To  him  we  owe  it 
that  the  atomistic  way  of  treating  New  Testament  problems 
has  been  left  behind,  and  that  not  only  is  the  literature 
treated  as  a  connected  unity  but  the  literature  and  the 
history  and  the  theology  are  realised  to  be  an  organio 
whole.  He  had  been  Strauss’  teacher,  and  before  the 
“  Life  of  Jesus  ”  appeared  he  had  not  only  published  books 
of  great  weight  and  learning,  but  he  had  already  laid  the 
foundations  of  the  criticism  with  which  his  name  will  for 
ever  be  associated.  In  the  noteworthy  account  of  his  critical 
development  which  he  gives  in  his  “  Church  History  of  the 
Nineteenth  Century,”  21  he  tells  us  that  he  remained  a  quiet 
spectator  of  the  sensations  which  the  “Life  of  Jesus” 
produced.  The  book  contained  nothing  new  to  him,  for  it 
had  been  written  in  his  immmediate  neighbourhood  and 
he  had  often  talked  it  over  with  the  writer  while  it  was  in 
progress.  But  he  kept  silence,  because  he  felt  that  he  was 
not  as  yet  qualified  to  pronounce  an  opinion  for  or  against 
21.  Kirchengeschichte,  pp.  417 — 420;  cf.  Dogmengeschichte,  356 — 358. 


The  History  of  Theology  151 

it.  He  had  been  preoccupied  with  the  Pauline  Epistles 
and  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  he  had  not  yet  made 
those  deeper  investigations  into  the  Gospels  which  would 
alone  have  justified  him  before  the  bar  of  his  exacting 
critical  conscience  in  pronouncing  a  judgment.  This  he 
was  first  qualified  to  give  when  he  had  reached  a  conclusion 
as  to  the  character  of  the  Gospel  of  John.  He  pays  a 
most  generous  tribute  to  the  qualities  which  Strauss  had 
exhibited  in  his  book,  and  considers  that  in  some  respects 
he  has  done  his  work  so  effectively  that  it  will  not  need  to 
be  done  over  again.  But  it  seemed  to  him  vitiated  by  a 
fundamental  defect  in  method.  This  was,  as  he  says  in 
his  work  on  the  Gospels,  that  it  gave  a  criticism  of  the 
Gospel  history  without  a  criticism  of  the  Gospels.  He  did 
not  blame  Strauss  for  this,  in  fact  he  considered  that  it 
w’as  inevitable  at  the  time.  Only  after  the  character  of 
the  documents  had  been  thoroughly  explored  was  it 
possible  to  use  them  in  the  construction  of  the  history ;  and 
until  Baur  himself  undertook  the  task  this  preliminary 
work  had  not  been  done.  He  had  not  specially  in  mind 
the  literarv  criticism.  It  was  rather  the  intrinsic 
character  of  each  document,  the  standpoint  from  which 
it  was  written,  the  tendency  that  came  to  expression  in  it, 
the  end  which  it  sought  to  serve,  that  must  in  the  first 
place  be  determined.  The  author  must  be  set  in  his  own 
time,  and  his  work  understood  in  relation  to  its  con¬ 
temporary  conditions.  Then  when  this  had  been  done  it 
would  be  possible  to  determine  its  value  as  a  historical 
source.  The  view  which  Baur  reached  with  reference  to 
the  Fourth  Gospel  simply  eliminated  it  as  a  historical 
source  for  the  “  Life  of  Jesus.”  But  this  made  Strauss 
tactics  no  longer  possible.  His  method  had  been  to  play 
off  the  Fourth  Gospel  against  the  Synoptists,  and  the 
Synoptists  against  the  Fourth  Gospel.  But  if  the  Fourth 
Gospel  was  not,  and  never  was  designed  to  be,  a  historical 
record,  then  it  could  not  be  used  to  discredit  the  Synoptic 
narrative.  This  consideration  did  not  of  course  prove 


152  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


tlie  historical  character  of  the  Synoptic  narratives,  but  it 

removed  one  ground  for  suspicion.  Yet  it  suggested  the 

possibility  that  one  or  more  of  these  Gospels  had  been 

written  with  a  similar  tendency.  And  Baur  in  fact  went  a 

good  way  in  this  direction,  lie  found  that  the  Gospel  of 

Matthew  contained  practically  his  most  trustworthy  source, 

so  that  the  task  of  criticism  for  the  sake  of  disengaging 

the  historical  material  was  practically  concentrated  on  that 

Gospel.  Further,  he  held  that  Strauss’  mythical  theory 

was  applied  by  him  on  a  scale  altogether  too  extensive. 

Once  it  had  been  recognised  that  several  of  the  Gospels 

were  tendency  writings,  then  the  action  on  the  tradition  of 

their  particular  tendency  had  to  be  recognised,  both  in 

modification  of  the  old  and  in  the  free  creation  of  fiction. 

In  his  new  “Life  of  Jesus  for  the  German  People”  (1864), 22 

which  was  much  influenced  by  Baur,  especially  in  the  view 

taken  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,23  Strauss,  whilst  speaking  in 

the  warmest  terms  of  his  teacher,  will  not  admit  that  Baur 

had  correctly  described  his  tactics,  and  retorts  that,  if 

Baur  was  right  in  accusing  him  of  giving  a  criticism  of  the 

Gospel  history  without  a  criticism  of  the  Gospels,  he  could 

with  the  same  justice  or  injustice  reply  that  Baur  had 

given  a  criticism  of  the  Gospels  without  a  criticism  of  the 

Gospel  history.24  Here  Strauss  put  his  finger  on  a  very 

serious  defect  in  Baur’s  work.  He  was  so  preoccupied 

with  the  documents  as  sources  for  the  history  of  the  time 

in  which  they  were  composed  and  the  light  they  threw  on 

the  relations  of  the  parties  within  the  Church  to  each 

other,  and  their  movement  towards  unity,  that  the 

reconstruction  of  the  historv  itself  claimed  all  too  little  of 

% / 

his  attention. 

In  what  I  have  just  said  I  have  touched  on  the  main 

22.  Leben  Jesu  fiir  das  deutsche  Volk  bearbeitet Eng.  trails.  The 
Life  of  Jesus  for  the  People.  T  quote  from  the  second  edition. 

23.  Eng.  trans.,  pp.  141 — 147. 

24.  Eng.  trans.,  pp.  125 — 127. 


The  History  of  Theology  153 

position  of  the  Tubingen  School.25  Baur  had  been  led  by 
his  study  of  the  Epistles  to  the  Corinthians  to  the  view 
that  instead  of  the  harmony  that  was  supposed  to  exist 
between  Paul  and  the  earlier  Apostles,  there  had  been  a 
controversy  in  which  his  authority  was  brought  into 
question.  This  impression  was  deepened  by  a  study  of  the 
Clementine  Homilies.  The  controversy  had  left  its  mark 
on  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.  His  studies  in  Gnosticism 
led  on  to  an  investigation  of  the  Pastoral  Epistles,  whose 
authenticity,  he  concluded,  was  impossible,  inasmuch  as 
their  origin  was  to  be  explained  from  those  party  tenden¬ 
cies  which  were  the  driving  force  in  the  nascent  Church 
of  the  second  century.  Deeper  research  led  him  to  the 
conviction  that  the  four  chief  Epistles  of  Paul,  Homans, 
Corinthians,  and  Galatians,  were  to  be  separated  from 
the  smaller  ones,  these  being  for  the  most  part,  if  not 
entirely,  non-authentic.  The  theory  as  fully  worked  out 
by  Baur  and  his  leading  followers,  notably,  Schwegler  26 

25.  Baur’s  essay,  “  Die  Christuspartei  in  der  korinthischen  Gemeinde, 
der  Gegensatz  des  paulinischen  und  petrinischen  Christentums,  der 
Apostel  Petrus  in  Rom”  ( Tubingen  Zeitschrift  fur  Theologie,  1831),  was 
the  starting  point  for  the  Tubingen  criticism.  It  was  followed  in  1835 
by  Die  sogenannten  Pastoralbriefe  des  Apostels  Paulus  aufs  neue  Jcritisch 
untersucht.  It  was  in  this  year  that  his  Die  christliche  Gnosis  appeared. 
During  the  next  ten  years  he  was  mainly  occupied  with  his  massive 
works  on  the  History  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Atonement,  the  Trinity, 
and  the  Incarnation.  In  1845  he  published  his  very  important  book, 
Paulus,  der  Apostel  J esu  Cliristi,  which  was  followed  in  1847  by  his  equally 
important  volume,  especially  for  the  criticism  of  the  Fourth  Gospel, 
Kritische  TJ ntersu chung en  iiber  die  Jcanonischen  Evangelien.  His  labours 
in  this  field  were  crowned  by  his  Das  Christentum  und  die  christliche 
Kirche  der  drei  ersten  J ahrliunderte  (1853).  This  and  the  Paulus  have 
been  translated  into  English.  He  defended  his  positions  in  a  number  of 
polemical  tracts,  and  also  wrote  sketches  of  his  own  development  and 
work.  The  very  elaborate  bibliography  prefixed  to  the  article  on  him 
in  Herzoj-Hauclc  may  be  specially  recommended. 

26.  His  chief  work,  Das  nachapostolische  Zeitalter  in  den  Haupt- 
momenten  seiner  Entwicklung  was  published  in  1846.  It  carried  out  the 
history  in  detail  and  over  the  whole  early  Christian  literature  and 
history  as  Baur  himself  had  not  yet  done. 


154  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


and  Zeller,27  was  as  follows.  In  the  Apostolic  Church 
there  was  a  sharp  division  between  the  earlier  apostles  and 
Paul,  the  former  being  the  champions  of  a  narrowly 
Jndaising  Christianity,  the  latter  vindicating  the  univer- 
salism  of  the  Gospel  and  the  abolition  of  the  Law.  The 
struggle  between  these  tendencies  was  the  prime  factor 
in  the  development  of  the  Church,  the  two  parties 
gradually  drawing  together  till,  with  the  exception  of 
extremists  on  both  sides,  they  coalesced  in  the  Catholic 
Church  of  the  second  century.  Five  New  Testament 

t/ 

books  alone  were  allowed  to  be  of  apostolic  origin,  the  four 
Epistles  of  Paul  already  mentioned,  and  the  Revelation  of 
John,  which  was  believed  to  contain  a  bitter  attack  on  the 
Apostle  of  the  Gentiles.  The  other  books  were  ranged  in 
chronological  order  by  the  degree  in  which  the  antagonistic 
or  conciliatory  tendencies  were  present.  Mark  was  the 
latest  of  the  Synoptists  because  in  this  respect  it  was  the 
most  natural.  John  was  the  latest  of  all  the  Gospels,  for 
it  reflected  the  final  harmony.  The  Acts  of  the  Apostles 
was  also  written  from  the  Catholic  standpoint  to  obliterate 
the  inconvenient  recollection  of  bitter  hostilitv  and 
substitute  the  more  edifying  picture  of  apostolic  harmony. 

I  need  hardly  say  that  Baur’s  theory,  widely  accepted 
and  confidently  maintained  as  it  was,  was  not  destined  to 
permanence.  Its  failure  was  due  to  no  lack  of  talent  or 
learning  in  himself  or  his  pupils.  If  it  could  have  been 
established  they  would  have  established  it.  It  probably 
does  him  no  injustice  to  say  that  had  he  not  been  a 
Hegelian  we  should  never  have  had  a  Tubingen  School. 
For  the  Hegelian  scheme  of  thesis,  antithesis  and 
synthesis  was  that  into  which  he  fitted  the  development 

27.  His  chief  work,  Die  Apostelgeschichte  nacli  ihrem  Inhalt  und 
Ursprung  hritisch  untcrsucht  was  published  in  1854.  He  was  Baur’s 
son-in-law,  and  from  1842  edited  the  journal  of  the  School,  Baur  joining 
him  in  the  editorship  from  1847  till  1857  when  it  was  discontinued  (see 
Baur,  Kir cheng eschichte,  pp.  449f.).  Subsequently,  like  Schwegler,  he 
abandoned  theology  for  the  history  of  philosophy. 


The  History  of  Theology  155 

of  Primitive  Christianity.  Of  course  he  found  facts  in 

his  documents  to  support  it.  He  did  not  reconstruct  the 

history  by  sheer  intuition ;  one  would  indeed  gather  from 

his  own  account  28  that  the  theory  was  first  suggested  to 

him  by  his  study  of  the  Epistles  to  the  Corinthians.  But 

probably  Hegelian  influence  even  at  that  period  of  his 

career  was  sharpening  his  scent  for  antitheses,  and  leading 

him  to  interpret  in  this  sense  features  in  his  documents 

which  were  susceptible  of  another  explanation.  As  he 

pushed  on  with  his  researches  he  fell  more  and  more  fully 

under  the  Hegelian  spell.  The  formula  became  a  master- 

key  with  which  he  believed  that  all  the  locks  could  be 
«/ 

opened.  And  thus,  with  abnormal  sensitiveness  to  one 
factor  in  the  development,  the  theory  slowly  became 
complete.  The  dominance  of  Hegelianism  at  the  time 
provided  the  favourable  psychological  climate  for  it,  and, 
although  some  of  the  most  eminent  Hew  Testament 
scholars,  and  those  by  no  means  blindly  conservative,  never 
accepted  it,  it  enjoyed  a  period  of  astonishing  success. 
But  the  philosophy  rapidly  lost  its  hold  in  Germany,  and 
this  inevitably  told  on  the  acceptance  of  the  criticism. 
The  objections  to  it  came  to  be  more  clearly  realised  the 
more  closely  it  was  investigated,  and  praise  is  specially  due 
to  Ritschl  for  recalling  New  Testament  scholars  to  sounder 
positions.  The  chronological  order  in  which  the  documents 
were  arranged ;  the  dates  to  which  they  were  assigned ;  the 
stigma  of  pseudonvmity  affixed  to  many  of  them;  had  all 
been  determined  by  the  question,  Where  do  they  fit  best 
in  the  scheme  of  development?  In  other  words,  the  theory 
was  brought  to  the  phenomena  rather  than  elicited  from 
them.  A  more  objective  study  has  definitely  disproved 
many  of  Baur’s  fundamental  positions.  The  great 
majority  of  the  Epistles  which  claim  to  come  from  Paul 
are  now  attributed  to  him  by  pretty  general  consent.  A 
measure  of  doubt,  it  is  true,  hangs  over  Colossians,  and 


28.  Kir cheng escliichte ,  p.  417. 


156  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


still  more  over  II  Thessalonians  and  Ephesians ;  but  the 
only  point  on  which  there  is  a  consensus  of  rejection  among 
advanced  critics  touches  the  Pastoral  Epistles,  and  even 
here  there  is  a  tendency  to  admit  the  presence  of  some 
authentic  fragments.  On  the  other  hand,  the  point  in 
which  Baur  agreed  with  tradition,  in  referring  the 
Apocalypse  to  a  Jewish  Christian  Apostle  has  been  almost 
universally  abandoned.  Similarly  the  criticism  of  the 
Gospels  has  moved  far  away  from  Barn's  results.  An 
investigation  into  the  literary  relations  of  the  Synoptists 
has  convinced  nearly  all  scholars  that  the  Gospel  of  Mark 
was  the  first  to  be  written,  not,  as  Baur  imagined,  the  last; 
wrhile  the  Fourth  Gospel  has  been  brought  back  by  a  large 
number  of  critics  from  the  middle  of  the  second  century  to 
a  date  not  far  removed  from  the  end  of  the  first.  The 
conciliatory  tendency  discovered  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles 
has  also  been  greatly  reduced  in  importance.  The 
Clementine  Homilies,  to  which  Baur  attached  so  much 
weight,  are  now  relegated  to  a  very  subordinate  position. 
And  while  it  is  not  of  course  denied  that  there  was  a 
Judaistic  conflict  in  the  early  Church,  it  has  been  dethroned 
from  the  sovereign  position  accorded  it  by  Baur.  Many 
other  factors  co-operated  to  create  the  Catholic  Church. 
Moreover,  Judaism  itself  was  too  narrowly  conceived.  It 
was  more  complex  and  held  within  itself  more  streams  of 
tendency  than  Baur  recognised.  Nor  did  the  controversy 
rage  so  long  as  he  imagined,  the  triumph  of  universalism 
reached  back  well  into  the  first  century  itself.  The  non- 
Pauline  character  of  much  second  century  Christianity 
did  not  spring,  as  he  had  argued,  from  any  hostility  to 
Paul,  but  from  the  inability  of  Gentile  Christians  to  under¬ 
stand  documents  written  by  one  who  had  been  trained  in 
Jewish  scholasticism  and  who  interpreted  his  new’  religion 
by  categories  taken  over  from  the  old.  Finally,  vTe  must 
remind  ourselves  of  Strauss’  criticism  that  Baur  had  given 
a  criticism  of  the  Gospels  without  a  criticism  of  the  Gospel 
history,  qualifying  it,  however,  by  the  further  remark  that 


The  History  of  Theology 


157 


liis  criticism  of  the  Gospels  has  been  largely  proved  to 
he  wrong.  The  failure  to  deal  adequately  with  the  Person 
of  the  Pounder  and  His  career  was  a  grave  defect  in  the 
theory  which  set  out  to  realise  the  programme  that  Baur 
had  laid  down. 

The  question  may  naturally  arise  why,  in  view  of  the 
collapse  of  Baur’s  theory,  not  in  detail  only  but  in  its 
central  positions,  an  epoch-making  significance  should  still 
be  claimed  for  him.  It  is,  in  the  first  place,  because  he 
realised  the  existence  of  a  problem.  The  origin  of  second 
century  Catholicism  had  to  be  explained,  it  did  not  explain 
itself.  How  did  it  come  about  that  the  movement,  rising 
out  of  Judaism,  had  in  little  more  than  a  hundred  years, 
created  a  well-organised  and  closely-knit  community  on 
Gentile  soil,  predominantly  Gentile  in  composition,  yet 
with  a  type  of  faith  and  piety  largely  different  from  that 
of  the  great  Apostle.  Baur’s  answer  to  this  may  not  have 
been,  and  indeed  was  not  satisfactory.  It  remains  his 
lasting  merit  that  he  put  the  question.  In  the  next  place 
he  redeemed  the  treatment  of  the  subject  from  atomism. 
His  method  was  of  the  highest  value  because  he  insisted 
that  the  literature  could  not  be  understood  apart  from  the 
history,  and  that  single  documents  could  not  be  treated  in 
isolation  from  each  other.  Pie  made  it  clear  that  a 
historical  document  was  a  valuable  source  for  knowledge 
of  the  time  when  it  was  produced  as  well  as  for  the  time  of 
which  it  told.  And  of  course  he  added  much  in  detail  of 
permanent  value.  Since  his  time  much  work  has  been 
done  on  the  New  Testament  in  the  departments  of  criticism 
and  history,  of  exegesis  and  theology.  In  a  sketch  like 
the  present  the  development  cannot  be  followed  in  any 
detail.  Even  the  bare  enumeration  of  names  that 
deserve  to  be  mentioned  would  have  to  be  far  from  com¬ 
plete.  Yet  I  could  not  well  entirely  pass  over  scholars 
so  eminent  as  Hilgenfeld  and  Holsten,  Weizsacker  and 
Pfleiderer,  Iloltzmann  and  Schurer,  Lipsius  and  von 
Soden,  or  to  turn  to  those  of  a  more  conservative  tendency 


158  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


Lticke  and  Bleek,  Meyer  and  Bernhard  Weiss,  Zahn  and 
Erich  Haupt.  Nor  can  we  forget  younger  scholars  such  as 
Jiilicher  and  Schmiedel,  Bousset,  Deissmann,  and  J. 
Weiss,  Wernle  and  Weinel,  who  had  gained  distinction 
ere  the  century  closed  and  are  happily  still  with  us. 

From  the  New  Testament  I  turn  to  the  Old  Testament. 
Here  the  contribution  of  Germany  has  been  very  great, 
yet  some  of  the  most  important  pioneering  work  has  come 
from  other  lands.  The  clue  to  the  analysis  of  the  Penta¬ 
teuch  given  by  the  use  of  the  Divine  names  Yahweh  and 
Elohim  was  first  put  forward  by  Astruc,29  a  French  Roman 
Catholic  physician  in  1753,  though  he  applied  it  only  to 
Genesis  and  the  opening  chapters  of  Exodus,  and  attributed 
the  Pentateuch  to  Moses.  Thirty  years  later  J.  G. 
Eichhorn,30  in  Germany,  reached  independently  similar 
results.  Geddes,31  a  Scotch  Roman  Catholic,  rejected  this 
clue,  but  advanced  beyond  Astruc  and  Eichhorn  in  that 
he  recognised  that  the  Pentateuch  could  not  be  the  work 
of  Moses  and  that  it  was  compiled  from  documentary 
sources  which  included  the  Journals  of  Moses.  In  1802  to 
1805  J.  S.  Yater  published  a  Commentary  on  the  Penta¬ 
teuch,32  incorporating  Geddes’  results  and  splitting  up  the 
Pentateuch  into  a  number  of  disconnected  fragments. 
Shortly  before  this,  in  1798,  Ilgen,  in  a  work  unhappily 
never  completed,33  analysed  Genesis  into  seventeen  distinct 

29.  Conjectures  sur  les  memoires  originaux  clout  il  paroit  que  Moyse 
s'est  servi  pour  composer  le  livre  de  la  Genese ,  1753. 

30.  Einleitung  in  clas  Alte  Testament ,  1780 — 1783. 

31.  The  Holy  Bible,  or  the  Books  accounted  sacred  by  Jews  and 
Christians ,  faithfully  translated  from  corrected  texts  of  the  originals, 
with  various  readings,  explanatory  notes,  and  critical  remarks,  vol.  i, 
1792,  vol.  ii,  1797 ;  Critical  Remarks  on  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  corre¬ 
sponding  with  a  new  translation  of  the  Bible,  1800. 

32.  Commentar  iiber  den  Pentateuch ,  1802 — 1805. 

33.  Die  Urkundendes  J erusalemischcn  Tempelarchivs  in  Hirer  Urgestalt, 
als  Beytrag  zur  Berichtigung  der  Geschichte  cler  Religion  und  Politik 
aus  dem  Hebraischen  mit  kritischen  und  erklarenden  Anmerkungen ,  auch 
mancherley  dazu  gehorigen  Abhandlungen,  Erster  Theil,  1798. 


The  History  of  Theology 


159 


documents,  but  lie  recognised  that  no  more  than  three 
writers  need  be  postulated  to  account  for  them,  and  thus 
advanced  beyond  the  fragment-hypothesis  of  Geddes  and 
Yater.  In  another  important  respect  he  adopted  a  sounder 
position;  he  accepted  the  validity  of  Astruc’s  clue.  But 
he  made  an  advance  here  by  the  recognition  that  two 
writers  used  Elohim,  an  observation  wThich  fell  into  neglect 
till  Hupfeld  rediscovered  it  in  1853.  In  1806-7  De  Wette, 
then  six-and-twenty,  published  his  “  Contributions  to  Old 
Testament  Introduction  ,  ”34  a  work  of  remarkable  brilliance 
which  secured  a  permanent  reputation  for  the  author,  and 
for  many  years  to  come  determined  the  attitude  of  most 
Old  Testament  scholars  in  Germany.  He  compared  the 
history  of  religious  institutions  in  the  historical  books  with 
the  laws  in  the  Pentateuch,  and  he  identified  the  Law 
book,  found  in  the  reign  of  Josiah  with  Deuteronomy. 
His  comparison  of  Chronicles  with  the  earlier  historical 
sources  led  him  to  the  conclusion  that  the  Chronicler  had 
revised  the  work  of  his  predecessors  in  order  to  give  the 
Law  what  he  held  to  have  been  its  actual  place  in  the 
history  though  the  earlier  historians  had  ignored  it.  In 
other  words,  it  was  the  late  source  which  represented  the 
Law  as  having  been  in  force  all  along.  The  next 
important  step  perhaps  was  the  publication  by  Yatke  in 
1835  of  the  first  part  of  a  work  intended  to  cover  the  whole 
field  of  Biblical  Theology.35  No  more  than  the  first 
volume  of  the  Old  Testament  section  appeared,  for  the 
work  was  destined  to  win  recognition  only  at  a  later  period. 
Yatke  was  a  Hegelian,  and  the  fact  that  he  anticipated  in 
the  most  important  point  of  all  the  now  generally  accepted 
critical  view,  has  often  been  held  to  justify  the  opinion 
that  the  Grafian  criticism,  like  that  of  Tubingen,  was 
rooted  in  Hegelianism  and  will  perish  in  like  manner. 
That  this  is  really  not  the  case  it  is  quite  easy  to  prove. 
Beuss,  the  eminent  Strassburg  scholar,  had  a  year  or  two 

34.  Beitrage  zur  Einleitung  in  das  Alte  T estament ,  1806-1807. 

35.  Die  biblische  Theologie  wissenschaftlich  dargestellt ,  Band  i,  1835. 


160  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


earlier  hit  upon  the  same  conclusion,  though  he  did  not 
venture  to  proclaim  it  outside  his  class-room,  and  he  at 
least  was  so  free  from  sympathy  with  Hegelianism  that  the 
terminology  of  the  school  in  Vatke’s  table  of  contents 
deterred  him  from  persevering  with  the  book.  The  great 
advance  made  by  these  scholars  lay  in  this,  that  they 
recognised  the  late  date  of  the  Priestly  Legislation.  It 
was  not  till  thirty  years  later  that  this  opinion  was 
revived  by  Graf.  In  the  meantime  Hupfeld36  completed, 
in  1853,  the  work  begun  by  Astruc  a  hundred  years  earlier, 
by  his  demonstration  of  two  Elohistic  writers,  in  which  he 
had  to  some  extent  been  anticipated  by  Ilgen.  Thus  the 
recognition  of  four  main  documents — the  Yahwistic,  two 
Elohistic,  and  the  Deuteronomic — was  now  securely  estab¬ 
lished.  In  1865,  Graf,37  who  had  been  a  pupil  of  Peuss, 
revived  the  theory  that  the  Priestly  Legislation  was  late. 
His  original  statement  was  open  to  serious  criticism,  and 
received  it.  But  before  his  death  he  revised  it  in  defer¬ 
ence  to  Kuenen’s  criticism,  so  that  the  problem  was  now 
stated  in  its  true  form,  Was  the  Priestly  Document  the 
latest  of  the  four  and  posterior  to  Ezekiel  ?  Graf  answered 
in  the  affirmative.  But  though  Kuenen  brilliantly 
vindicated  this  position,38  it  was  not  till  the  publication  of 
Duhm’s  “  Theology  of  the  Prophets  ”  39  in  1875  that  a 
German  scholar  came  forward  in  its  defence.  It  was  in 
this  year  that  Heinrich  Ewald  died.  Although  I  have  not 
mentioned  his  name  in  this  sketch  he  had  for  long  been  the 
dominant  personality  in  the  ranks  of  German  Old  Testa¬ 
ment  scholars.  In  the  dedication  of  his  famous  com¬ 
mentary  on  Isaiah,  Hitzig  had  greeted  his  teacher  as  “the 

36.  Die  Quellen  der  Genesis  und  die  Art  Hirer  Zusammensetzung ,  1853. 

37.  Die  geschichtlichen  Bucher  cles  Alten  Testaments.  Zwei  historisch - 
kritische  ZJntersuchungen,  1865. 

38.  De  Godsdienst  van  Israel,  1869-1870,  and  in  articles  in  the 
Theologisch  Tijdscrift. 

39.  Die  Theologie  der  Propheten  als  Grundlage  fur  die  inner e 
Entwicklungsgeschichte  der  israelitischen  Religion  dargestellt,  1875. 


The  History  of  Theology 


161 


new  founder  of  a  science  of  Hebrew  language  and 
thereby  of  the  exegesis  of  the  Old  Testament.”  E  wald’s 
work  on  the  Prophets  opened  a  new  era  in  the  interpreta¬ 
tion  of  their  writings.  His  massive  “  History  of  the 
People  of  Israel  ”  has  had  no  successor  on  the  grand  scale. 
But  his  work  on  the  Pentateuch,  while  of  coursenot  unim¬ 
portant  was  less  significant,  and  his  influence  was  thrown 
heavily  against  the  attempt  to  make  the  Priestly  Legislation 
late.  His  attitude  was  shared  by  his  pupils,  who  numbered 
among  them  some  of  the  most  distinguished  names  in 
Semitic  and  Old  Testament  scholarship.  In  particular 
Schrader,  the  eminent  Assyriologist ;  Noldeke,  foremost  in 
Semitic  learning  and  specially  famous  for  his  masterly 
treatment  of  the  Priestly  Code  ;40  and  Dillmann,  renowned 
alike  for  Ethiopic  and  Old  Testament  exegesis ;  all 
pronounced  emphatically  against  the  Grafian  view.  It 
was,  however,  a  younger  pupil  of  Ewald,  inferior  to  none 
in  genius  or  in  learning,  who,  after  most  important  discus¬ 
sions  of  the  literary  analysis,  revolutionised  the  critical 
opinion  of  Germany  in  favour  of  the  Grafian  theory.41  It 
is  not  without  its  touch  of  pathos  that  WellhauseiTs 
“  History  of  Israel,”  vol.  i,  known  in  the  later  editions 
under  the  more  familiar  title  “  Prolegomena  to  the  History 
of  Israel,”  should  bear  the  dedication  “  To  my  unforgotten 
teacher  Heinrich  Ewald,  in  Gratitude  and  Reverence. ”41a 
Since  1878  the  theory  has  held  its  ground,  nor  in  spite  of 
frequent  statements  to  the  contrary,  am  I  able  to  discern 
any  indication  that  it  is  likely  in  its  main  lines  to  be 

40.  Untersuchungen  zur  Kritilc  des  Alten  Testaments,  1869. 

41.  Die  Composition  des  Hextateuchs,  1876-1877 ;  Geschichte  Israels, 
Band  i,  1878.  From  the  second  edition  onwards,  Prolegomena  zur 
Geschichte  Israels.  The  English  translation  of  the  third  edition  was  pub¬ 
lished  under  the  title  Prolegomena  to  the  History  of  Israel,  and  con¬ 
tained  in  addition  a  reprint  of  his  classical  article  “  Israel  ’  in  the  9th 
edition  of  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica. 

41a.  Meinem  unvergessenen  Lehrer  Heinrich  Ewald  zu  Danlc  und 

Bhren. 


162  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


abandoned.  It  must  of  course  be  remembered  that  the 
dating  of  the  Priestly  Code  in  the  post-exilic  period  does 
not  imply  that  all  the  institutions  originated  at  that  time. 
Far  from  it.  The  Code  incorporates  much  ancient 
ceremonial,  in  many  instances  pre-Mosaic  in  origin, 
probably  by  many  thousands  of  years.  Certain  features 
within  it,  however,  for  example  the  distinction  between 
Priests  and  Levit'es,  are  later  than  the  destruction  of 
Jerusalem  and  dependent  on  Josiali’s  Reformation  in 
621  n.c. 

On  the  development  of  criticism  in  other  sections  of  the 
Old  Testament  I  cannot  linger.  It  may  be  said  in  a  few 
words  what  the  general  results  have  been.  The  analysis 
of  documents  which  has  achieved  such  remarkable  results 
in  the  Pentateuch  has  not  left  the  historical  books  un¬ 
touched.  The  documentarv  sources  and  the  extent  to 

«/ 

which  they  have  been  used  have  been  carefully  investi¬ 
gated.  The  prophetic  literature  has  been  analysed  with  a 
similar  care  and  some  of  the  books  shown  to  be  highly 
composite.  The  very  complex  structure  of  Isaiah,  the 
extensive  editing  to  which  most  of  the  earlier  books  have 
been  subjected,  especially  by  the  insertion  of  predictions 
of  restoration  or  happy  endings  are  among  the  leading 
features  of  more  recent  criticism.  Here  the  names  of 
Wellhausen 42  and  Dukm43  deserve  special  recognition. 
Even  if  in  the  case  of  the  latter  it  may  be  felt  that  the 
criticism  is  unduly  subjective  and  governed  by  dubious 
presuppositions,  and  that  he  exhibits  too  great  a  partiality 
for  dates  improbably  late,  it  ought  to  be  as  ungrudgingly 
acknowledged  that  his  work  in  this  field  has  been  stimulat¬ 
ing  and  suggestive  in  a  quite  exceptional  way.  But,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  New  Testament,  the  number  of  eminent 
scholars  is  too  large  to  permit  of  any  adequate  mention. 
To  those  who  have  been  named  I  might  add  some  of  the 

42.  Die  Kleinen  Propheten  iibersetzt  und  erkldrt,  1892. 

43.  Commentaries  on  Isaiah  (1892)  in  Nowack’s  H  andlcommentar  zvm 
Alten  Testament ,  and  on  Job  (1897),  Psalms  (1899),  Jeremiah  (1901),  in 
Marti’s  Kurzer  Hand-commentar  zum  Alten  Testament. 


The  History  of  Theology 


163 


more  noteworthy.  For  sheer  erudition  and  truly  gigantic 
labours  we  should  probably  give  the  first  place  to  Lagarde. 
An  Orientalist  not  simply  of  the  highest  quality  but  of  an 
astonishing  range,  he  independently  reached  a  theory  of 
the  Pentateuch  closely  allied  to  that  of  Graf.  He  toiled 
in  many  fields,  but  deserves  our  special  recognition  for  his 
researches  on  Biblical  and  patristic  texts,  especially  the 
Septuagint.  Hitzig,  too,  was  an  Orientalist  of  great 
distinction,  with  a  quite  exceptional  mastery  of  the  Hebrew 
language,  equipped  for  the  difficult  and  somewhat  thankless 
task  of  the  commentator  with  tact  and  penetration  and  a 
subtlety  which  now  and  then  became  his  snare.  Defects 
more  serious  still  were  his  dogmatism  in  matters  where  the 
data  were  too  scanty  to  justify  a  conclusion,  too  much  self- 
confidence,  too  wayward  a  judgment.  A  commentator 
better  known  to  English  students  was  Franz  Delitzsch. 
While  Hitzig  was  from  first  to  last  a  rationalist,  Delitzsch 
was  an  orthodox  Lutheran  in  theology,  and  started  from 
a  very  conservative  position  in  criticism,  though  without 
the  bitterness  and  inflexibility  which  characterised 
Hengstenberg.  He  was  in  fact  associated  with  Keil  in 
the  production  of  an  Old  Testament  Commentary,  which 
was  characterised  bv  the  firmest  adhesion  to  tradition. 
But  he  came  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life  to  realise 
the  strength  of  the  critical  position  and  make  concessions 
which  were  honourable  to  his  candour  if  they  did  quite 
inadequate  justice  to  the  requirements  of  the  case.  He 
was  a  man  of  wide  learning,  especially  in  the  post-Biblical 
Jewish  literature.  His  commentaries  had  at  one  time  a 
great  vogue,  but  they  answer  very  imperfectly  to  the  more 
exacting  demands  of  a  time  trained  to  expect  a  keener 
textual  criticism  and  an  exegesis  more  penetrating  and 
detached.  Of  scholars  who  belonged  to  the  more  critical 
wing  I  must  at  least  mention  Stade,  the  editor  of  the 
“  Zeitschrift  fiir  Attestamentliche  Wissenschaft,”  who  is 
best  known  for  his  u  History  of  Israel,”  but  who  did  much 
for  Hebrew  grammar  and  lexicography,  for  Higher  and 


164  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


Lower  Criticism  and  for  Old  Testament  Theology;  Budde, 
whose  work  has  been  marked  by  exceptional  suggestiveness 
and  insight,  and  who  has  opened  up  new  lines  of  research 
especially  in  criticism;  Cornill,  who,  while  doing  much 
for  criticism  in  both  its  main  branches,  has  earned  our 
special  gratitude  by  his  sympathetic  exposition  of  the 
prophets,  notably  of  Jeremiah;  Ivautzsch,  the  editor  of 
Gesenius'  Hebrew  Grammar  in  several  successive  editions, 
the  editor  also  of  an  important  critical  translation  of  the 
Old  Testament,  but  who  deserves  special  remembrance  in 
an  English  lecture  for  giving  us  the  best  sketch  of  the 
History  of  Israel's  Religion  that  we  possess  in  our 
language;  Gunkel,  perhaps  among  all  these  scholars  the 
most  suggestive  and  original.  I  must  content  myself  with 
the  bare  mention  of  other  scholars  on  each  of  whom  it 
would  be  possible  to  say  much  were  there  space :  Nowack 
and  Marti,  Baudissin  and  Baethgen,  Giesebrecht  and 
Sellin,  Baentsch  and  Bertholet,  Holzinger  and  Steuernagel, 
Iviostermann  and  Konig;  indeed  one  does  not  know  where 
to  stop,  and  the  list  is  far  from  complete.  I  must, 
however  mention  one  phase  of  speculation  which  has 
recently  attracted  great  attention.  This  is  specially 
connected  with  the  name  of  Winckler,  the  eminent 
Assyriologist,  whom  we  have  recently  lost  by  death. 
Deeply  impressed  writh  the  evidence  for  the  early  and  wide 
diffusion  of  Babylonian  culture,  he  has  reduced  Israel  to 
little  more  than  an  intellectual  province  of  Babylonia.  He 
has  constructed  what  he  takes  to  be  the  Babylonian  theory 
of  the  universe,  and  this  astral  mythology  which,  it  must 
be  remembered,  has  been  reached  by  the  piecing  together  of 
bits  of  evidence  and  which  cannot  be  proved  ever  to  have 
existed  in  antiquity,  he  believes  to  have  exercised  much 
influence  on  the  religion  of  Israel  and  through  it  on  the 
Old  Testament.  The  theory  is  too  complicated  to  be 
expounded  here,  but  the  kind  of  evidence  by  which  it  is 
supported  is  such  as  to  inspire  little  confidence  that  it  is 
likely  to  maintain  its  ground.  Yet,  in  view  of  the 


The  History  of  Theology 


165 


prominence  which  it  has  received  in  recent  discussion,  I 
could  not  pass  over  it  in  silence,  especially  as  it  is  of 
course  undeniable  that  Babylonian  influence  did  extend 
over  a  very  large  area  and  persisted  for  a  considerable 
length  of  time. 

I  may  now  take  up  once  more  the  thread  of  the 
theological  development  in  the  narrower  sense  of  the  term. 
Five  years  after  the  publication  of  his  “Life  of  Jesus,” 
Strauss  issued  the  first  volume  of  a  work  designed  to 
complete  the  task  which  the  former  book  had  begun .  This 
bore  the  title  “  The  Christian  Doctrine  Exhibited  in  its 
Historical  Development  and  in  Conflict  with  Modern 
Science.’'*  44  The  second  volume,  which  brought  the  work 
to  a  close,  appeared  in  the  following  year.  As  he  had 
formerly  attacked  the  credubility  of  the  Gospel  story,  he 
now  sought  to  undermine  the  whole  fabric  of  Christian 
dogma.  In  the  pungent  paragraphs  with  which  the 
introduction  opens  Strauss  takes  us  back  ten  years  earlier 
to  the  opening  of  the  fourth  decade  of  the  century.  Then 
it  seemed  as  if  the  long  quarrel  between  philosophy  and 
religion  had  been  brought  to  a  close  by  intermarriage 
between  the  two  families,  from  which  alliance  the  Hegelian 
system  had  sprung.  “  The  wisdom  of  the  world,  that 
haughty  pagan,  humbly  submitted  to  Baptism  and  made  a 
Christian  confession  of  faith,  while  Faith,  on  the  other 
hand,  made  no  objection  to  grant  her  a  certificate  of  full 
Christian  character,  and  urgently  recommend  her  to  the 
loving  welcome  of  the  Community.”  But  this  naive 
confidence  was  soon  shattered.  One  could  indeed  see  not  a 
few  lambs  lying  down  with  the  wolves,  and  some  ostensible 
lions  making  remarkable  progress  in  eating  straw.  But 
others  showed  their  claws  and  teeth  and  hungered  for  a 
better  diet.  Under  the  influence  of  Hegelianism  Church 
doctrines  were  transformed  and  the  Biblical  history  largely 
turned  into  myth ;  the  ecclesiastical  authorities  and 

44.  Die  christliche  Glaubenslehre  in  Hirer  geschichtlichen  EntwicMung 
und  im  Kam'pfe  mit  der  modernen  Wissenschaft  dargestellt. 


166  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


theologians  took  alarm;  and  the  Hegelian  School  itself 
split  into  a  right  and  a  left  wing,  of  which  the  latter  moved 
rapidly  forward  to  a  definitely  non-Christian  position, 
notably,  in  Feuerbach.45  Thus  while  the  principle  that 
religion  and  philosophy  were  materially  identical,  though 
formally  different,  led  to  a  conservative  attitude  towards 
ecclesiastical  dogma  in  the  earlier  Hegelian  school  and  the 
borrowing  of  Christian  formulae  in  which  to  express  its 
own  truths,  as  time  went  on  and  logic  fulfilled  its  work,  the 
real  incompatibility  of  the  two  became  clearer  and  clearer 
however  loudly  the  orthodox  Hegelians  might  protest  that 
their  philosophy  was  in  no  wise  compromised  by  these 
irrevsponsible  extremists.  Strauss’  treatise  on  theology 
cleared  the  air.  The  book  was  written  with  all  the  frank¬ 
ness  and  lucidity  that  the  author  had  taught  the  world  to 
expect.  Like  its  predecessor,  it  rested  on  a  remarkable 
width  of  reading  not  only  of  the  negative  critics  of  dogma 
but  of  its  most  representative  exponents.  The  method  of 
the  book  was  deliberately  chosen.  It  was  largely  an 
exhibition  of  the  course  which  the  history  of  the  various 
dogmas  had  taken,  for  in  that  way  he  believed  that  the 
bankruptcy  of  theology  could  most  effectively  be  shown. 
He  expresses  this  in  one  of  his  striking  metaphors,  “  The 
subjective  criticism  of  the  individual  is  a  water-pipe  which 
any  lad  can  keep  stopped  for  a  time ;  criticism  as  it  com¬ 
pletes  itself  objectively  in  the  course  of  centuries  plunges 
forward  like  a  raging  flood,  against  which  all  locks  and 
dams  are  of  no  avail.”  46  His  own  work  he  compares  to  a 
balance  sheet :  it  may  make  the  firm  no  richer  but  it  is 
quite  as  important  for  it  to  know  just  where  it  stands. 
This  all  the  more  that  many  theologians  live  in  a  fool’s 

%J  o 

paradise  and  imagine  theology  to  be  in  a  perfectly  solvent 
condition.47  Strauss  leaves  them  under  no  illusions  as  to 
the  results  of  his  audit.  Eight  through,  the  Christian 

45.  l.c.,  pp.  1-4. 

46.  l.c. ,  p.  x. 

47.  l.c.,  pp.  x.  xi. 


The  History  of  Theology  167 

doctrines  are  found  wanting.  And  that  not  merely  in 
their  orthodox  form,  but  as  they  had  been  transformed  by 
more  liberal  thinkers.  For  his  own  part  he  turns  them 
into  philosophical  abstractions,  which  could  not  be  called 
Christian  in  any  proper  sense  of  the  term.  Rejecting  the 
God  of  theology  he  accepted  a  spiritual  principle;  the 
Infinite  seeks  its  realisation  in  the  finite  and  attains  self- 
consciousness  in  the  human  race.  In  his  work  “  The 
Essence  of  Christianity,"  48  published  in  1841,  Feuerbach 
rejected  this  transcendental  Absolute  and  turned  theology 
into  anthropology  by  asserting  the  Divinity  of  man.  In 
philosophy  he  was  a  materialist.  To  this  position  it  may 
be  added  that  Strauss  advanced  in  the  work  of  his  old  age 
“  The  Old  Faith  and  the  New,”  49  which,  it  may  be 
remembered,  provoked  Nietzsche  to  savage  criticism.  Yet, 
strange  as  it  may  have  seemed  to  Strauss  and  Feuerbach, 
the  Christian  religion  went  on  living  and  its  doctrines 
continued  to  be  expounded  by  men  of  high  learning  and 
distinction.  It  is  customary  to  classify  the  types  of 
theology  under  three  heads.  We  have  the  Liberals,  the 
Confessionalists,  and  the  Mediating  Theologians.  Each  of 
these  schools  possessed  eminent  representatives  to  whom  I 
should  be  glad  to  devote  a  full  exposition.  But  within 
my  limits  I  must  content  myself  with  the  most  general 
reference,  and  this  is  the  less  to  be  regretted  that,  in 
spite  of  their  well-deserved  reputation  and  the  value  of 
their  work,  they  did  not  mark  a  new  stage  in  the  develop¬ 
ment  in  the  same  way  as  Ritschl,  not  to  speak  of  Schleier- 
maoher.  All  three  types  had  been  greatly  influenced  by 
Schleiermacher.  It  is  true  that  there  was  not  in  the  strict 
sense  of  the  term  a  School  of  Schleiermacher.  Those  who 
are  commonly  recognised  as  such,  for  example,  Nitzsch, 

48.  Das  Wesen  des  Christentums.  It  was  translated  into  English  from 
the  Second  German  edition  by  Marian  Evans  (i.e.  George  Eliot)  in  1854 
under  the  title  The  Essence  of  Christianity. 

49.  Der  altc  und  der  neue  Glaube  (1872)  ;  Eng.  trails,  by  Mathilde 
Blind,  The  Old  Faith  and  the  New  from  the  Sixth  Edition. 


168  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


Twesten,  Neander,  and  Ullmann,  stood  a  good  deal  nearer 
to  traditional  Christianity  than  their  master.  A  more 
genuine  representative  was  Alexander  Schweizer,  who  was 
eminent  for  his  contributions  to  the  history  of  doctrine, 
and  even  more  so  for  his  exposition  of  Systematic  Theology. 
He  laboured,  however,  in  Zurich  more  than  half  a  century. 
He  had  here  as  his  colleague  for  many  years  Biedermarm, 
who,  though  not  a  Hegelian  in  the  full  sense,  was  yet  of 
the  more  distinguished  theologians  of  the  Left  the  one  who 
was  most  deeply  influenced  by  Hegel.  Pfieiderer  for  part 
of  his  career  at  least  stood  in  a  similar  position,  though 
further  removed  from  Hegelianism  and  less  inclined  to 
Pantheism.  Lipsius  was  definitely  theistic  and  further 
removed  from  Hegel  than  either.  Both  he  and  Pfieiderer 
did  work  of  the  highest  value  on  the  New  Testament  and 
the  early  history  of  doctrine.  Of  the  Confessional 
theologians  I  might  mention  Hofmann,  famous  alike  in 
exegesis  and  systematic  as  one  of  the  most  penetrating  and 
original  scholars,  but  far  less  convincing  than  original ; 
Thomasius,  notable  as  an  exponent  of  the  History  of 
Doctrine,  but  popularly  best  known  as  the  first  to  put 
forward  a  Kenotic  Christology;  Frank,  the  author  of  the 
“  System  of  the  Christian  Certainty  ” ;  and  Ilengstenberg, 
known  for  his  violent  ecclesiastical  journalism  and  his 
strenuous  opposition  to  a  Biblical  criticism  which  departed 
from  tradition.  Among  the  mediating  theologians  I  may 
name  Julius  Muller,  the  author  of  “  The  Christian 
Doctrine  of  Sin,”  who  was  driven  to  explain  the  fact  of 
sin  by  the  theory  of  a  non-temporal  fall  of  souls;  Pothe, 
one  of  the  most  striking  figures  in  the  theology  of  the 
century,  but  on  whom  I  must  not  linger,  though  a  treatise 
would  be  needed  to  do  him  justice;  and  Dorner,  perhaps 
the  most  typical  representative  of  this  tendency,  best 
known  for  his  “  History  of  the  Doctrine  of  the  Person  of 
Christ,”  his  “History  of  Protestant  Theology”  and  his 
“  System  of  Christian  Doctrine.”  Kattenbusch  puts 
together  all  these  schools  under  the  heading  “  Romantic 


The  History  of  Theology 


169 


Theology,”  by  which  he  desires  to  emphasise  their 
connexion  with  Schleiermacher  and  to  differentiate  them 
from  Ritschl.50  In  other  words,  however  widely  these 
schools  differed,  and  the  difference  could  hardly  be  over- 
stated,  they  agreed  in  finding  the  starting  point  of  theology 
in  immediate  self-consciousness.  With  this  we  come  to 
Bitschl.51 

It  is  far  from  easy  to  give  any  clear  and  at  the  same 
time  just  impression  of  BitschTs  theology.  The  three 
types  of  theology,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  suspended 
hostilities  to  unite  against  the  new-comer,  but  while 
Ritsehlianism  evoked  fierce  antagonism,  which  it  was  not 
slow  to  meet  in  a  like  temper,  it  enlisted  the  enthusiastic 
adhesion  of  many  among  the  younger  theologians,  includ¬ 
ing  Herrmann,52  Kaftan,53  Kattenbusch,  Harnack,54  and 
Wendt.  Several  of  Ritschl’s  most  distinguished  followers 

50.  Von  Schleiermacher  zu  Bitschl  (1st  ed.,  1892),  pp.  23 — 26. 

51.  Ritschl’s  life  has  been  written  by  his  son,  Otto  Ritschl,  Albrecht 
Bitschl’ s  Leben ;  he  also  writes  the  article  on  his  father  in  Herzog-Hauclc. 
The  literature  on  his  theology  is  large  and  increasing.  In  addition  to 
the  general  works  already  mentioned,  the  following  will  be  found  of 
service  to  the  English  reader :  Orr,  The  Bitschlian  Theology ; 
BitschUanism :  Expository  and  Critical  Essays ,  together  with  the  refer¬ 
ences  in  his  Christian  View  of  God  and  the  World;  Garvie,  The 
Bitschlian  Theology:  Critical  and  Constructive ",  A.  T.  Swing,  The 
Theology  of  Albrecht  Bitschl  (this  includes  a  translation  of  Ritschl’s 
TJnterricht)  ;  J.  K.  Mozley,  BitschUanism ;  Edghill,  Faith  and  Fact. 
German  discussions  are  very  numerous ;  it  may  suffice  to  mention  Ecke, 
Die  theologische  Schide  A.  Bitschls  und  die  evangelische  Kir  die  der 
Gegenwart  (on  this  see  Harnack,  Beden  und  Aufsatze ,  1st  ed.,  pp.  347 — 
368);  Lipsius,  Die  Bitschl’sche  Theologie',  Frank,  Zur  Theologie  A. 
Bitschls ;  Pfleiderer,  Die  Bitschl’ sche  Theologie  hritisch  beleuchtet. 
Ritschl’s  chief  works  are  mentioned  below,  pp.  171  f.  The  following  may  be 
added  :  TJnterricht  in  der  christlichen  Beligiow,  Theologie  und  Meta- 
physik.  A  number  of  his  minor  writings  have  been  collected  in 
Gesammelte  Aufsdtze. 

52.  His  most  notable  work  is  Der  Verkehr  des  Christen  mit  Gott. 
The  English  translation,  entitled  The  Communion  of  the  Christian  with 


170  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


had  not  been  his  pupils.  They  had  been  trained  by 
mediating  theologians,  and,  while  not  unmindful  of  Iheir 
debt,  found  in  Iiitschl  a  satisfaction  which  their  earlier 
teachers  had  not  been  able  to  give  them.  There  is  no 
Ritschlian  school  in  the  sense  that  its  members  agree  in 
their  general  theological  views ;  the  school  found  its 
principle  of  union  rather  in  a  common  method  and  point 
of  view.  There  is  in  fact  a  wide  divergence  within  the 
school  itself  on  matters  of  the  greatest  importance.  Ritschl 
was  the  son  of  a  Lutheran  bishop,  and  had  been  brought 
up  in  the  staid,  unemotional  type  of  piety  which  one  would 
expect  in  such  a  household.  From  this  he  broke  away  and 
fell  under  the  spell  of  Hegelianism.  For  a  time  he  was  a 
member  of  the  Tubingen  School,  and  in  1846  wrote  a  book 
to  prove  that  our  Gospel  of  Luke  was  based  on  the  Gospel 


God  from  the  fourth  German  edition  in  the  Crown  Theological  Library, 
supersedes  the  earlier  volume  in  the  Theological  Translation  Library. 

53.  His  chief  works  are:  Das  Wesen  der  christlichen  Religion;  Die 
Wahrheit  der  christlichen  Religion  (Eng.  trails.,  The  Truth  of  the 
Christian  Religion) ;  Dogmatik. 

54.  Harnack’s  output  has  been  colossal.  His  contributions  to  Church 
History,  especially  the  early  period,  or  to  New  Testament  criticism 
scarcely  concern  us  here,  but  the  following  works  should  be  mentioned, 
Lehtrbuch  der  Dogmengeschichte  (the  4th  edition  has  been  recently 
revised  and  is  now  presumably  in  its  final  form ;  the  English  translation. 
History  of  Dogma ,  is  from  the  3rd  edition)  ;  Das  Wesen  des 
Christentums  (Eng.  trails.,  What  is  Christianity?),  also  several  of  the 
addresses  and  essays  collected  in  Reden  und  Aufsatze.  Of  these  two  are 
accessible  in  English  translations:  Christianity  and  History;  Thoughts 
on  the  Present  Position  of  Protestantism ;  and  uniform  with  these  is 
The  Apostle's  Creed,  a  translation  of  the  article  in  Herzog-Hauck.  An 
article  dealing  with  the  Apostle’s  Creed  is  printed  in  Reden  und 
Aufsatze.  The  commotion  which  it  excited  in  Germany  may  be  gauged 
from  the  fact  that  the  article  was  published  on  Aug.  18th,  1892,  in 
Die  Christliche  Welt,  reprinted  as  a  pamphlet  in  a  few  weeks,  and  was 
in  its  twenty-sixth  edition  before  the  close  of  the  year.  A  very  bitter 
controversy  ensued.  Numerous  pamphlets  appeared;  Harnack  replied 
to  Cremer’s  Zurn  Kampf  um  das  Apostolikum ,  and  his  reply  is  also 
reprinted  in  Reden  und  Aufsatze  from  Die  Christliche  Welt. 


171 


The  History  of  Theology 

of  Marcion.55  In  1850  lie  published  the  first  edition  of 
his  treatise  on  “  The  Origin  of  the  Old  Catholic  Church, ”  56 
in  which,  though  with  no  little  independence,  he  still 
accepted  the  Tubingen  standpoint.  The  second  edition, 
published  in  1857,  made  it  plain  that  he  had  definitely 
abandoned  it.  This  book  was  one  of  the  most  important 
discussions  on  primitive  Christianity  published  in  the 
nineteenth  century,  and  exerted  a  decisive  influence  on  the 
later  pursuit  of  the  subject.  Among  other  teachers  he  had 
been  influenced  by  Hofmann  and  Rotlie;  and  he  owed 
much  to  Sclileiermacher,  in  spite  of  the  unfriendly 
language  in  which  he  speaks  of  his  theological  system. 
His  affinities,  however,  were  closer  with  Kant  and  Lotze. 
He  had  made  profound  studies  in  the  History  of  Doctrine, 
the  fruits  of  which  are  to  be  seen  in  his  great  dogmatic 
treatise  57  and  in  his  “  History  of  Pietism.”  58 

V 

55.  Das  E vangelium  Marcions  und  das  Jcanonische  E  vangelium  des 
Lucas.  He  soon  abandoned  the  theory,  and  withdrew  it  in  1851.  Baur 
maintained  it  for  a  time,  but  surrendered  it  later,  though  still  affirming 
that  Marcion’s  Gospel  contained  readings  more  original  than  those  in 
Luke  as  well  as  deliberate  alterations  of  Luke's  text.  The  dependence 
of  Marcion  on  Luke  was  demonstrated  by  Volkmar  and  Hilgenfeld ; 
when,  in  spite  of  this,  the  author  of  Supernatural  Religion  revived  the 
contrary  theory,  he  was  refuted  so  conclusively  by  W.  Sanday  that  he 
abandoned  it. 

56.  Die  Entstehung  der  altkatholiehen  Kirche.  It  is  little  to  our 
credit  that  no  English  translation  of  the  second  edition  has  appeared. 

57.  Die  christUche  Lehre  von  der  Rechtfertigung  und  V ersohnung . 
It  was  published  in  1870,  1874  in  three  volumes.  The  first  (Eng.  trans. 
from  the  first  edition  by  «T.  Sutherland  Black,  A  Critical  History  of  the 
Christian  Doctrine  of  Justification  and  Reconciliation ,  1872)  contained 
the  history  of  the  doctrine,  the  second  volume  (untranslated)  the  Biblical 
doctrine,  the  third  the  constructive  part  of  the  work  (Eng.  trans.  from 
the  third  edition,  edited  by  H.  R.  Mackintosh  and  A.  B.  Macaulay  : 
The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Justification  and  Reconciliation  ;  The  Positive 
Development  of  the  Doctrine,  1900).  It  should  be  remembered  that  the 
first  three  editions  vary  considerably.  It  may  also  be  worth  mentioning 
that  it  was  Ritschl’s  original  intention  to  combine  the  Biblical  and 
constructive  sections  in  one  volume  (see  preface  to  vol.  i).  The  third 
volume  is  not  of  course  a  complete  treatise  on  Systematic  Theology,  but 


172  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


One  of  the  points  which  deserve  to  be  placed  in  the 
forefront  is  that  Ritschlianism  was  destined  to  meet  a  very 
difficult  situation,  the  lapse  from  the  Churches  especially 
among  people  of  culture,  and  in  particular  those  who  stood 
under  the  influence  of  the  scientific  view  of  the  world. 
Bitschl  believed  the  fault  to  lie  largely  in  the  way  in 
which  Christianity  had  been  expounded  and  defended. 
Whatever  differences  may  keep  the  members  of  the  school 
apart  they  are  united  in  the  emphasis  which  they  place  on 
the  fact  that  religion  has  to  do  with  judgments  of  value. 
BitschTs  meaning  has  been  hotly  debated,  and  if  he  has 
been  the  victim  of  much  misunderstanding  the  blame  is 
scarcely  all  on  one  side.  The  question  is  much  too  intricate 
to  be  examined  here.59  Ritschl  distinguishes  religious 
from  scientific  knowledge  or  philosophy.  Not  that  the 
objects  of  religious  are  less  real  than  those  of  scientific 

large  portions  of  what  would  form  part  of  such  a  treatise  are  included 
as  “  The  Presuppositions.”  He  says  in  the  preface  to  the  first  edition  of 
the  third  volume  :  “  In  order  to  make  what  is  the  central  doctrine  of 
Christianity  intelligible  as  such,  I  have  been  compelled  to  give  an  almost 
complete  outline  of  Systematic  Theology,  the  remaining  part  of  which 
could  be  easily  supplied”  (Eng.  trans.,  p.  vii).  He  comes  nearest  to  a 
sketch  of  Systematic  Theology  in  his  Unterriclit ,  intended  by  Ritschl  for 
use  in  schools,  a  truly  amazing  book  for  such  a  purpose,  but  valuable 
for  students  of  Ritschlianism.  Frank  sharply  criticises  the  failure  of 
the  School  to  produce  any  comprehensive  and  complete  work  on 
Systematic  Theology.  He  goes  on  to  complain  of  corresponding  failure 
in  tone,  Ritschl’s  tone  often  being  profane  and  un-Christian,  and  in 
practical  Christian  service  :  “  It  appears  that  the  sterility  in  the  dogmatic 
sphere  has  its  counterpart  also  in  the  practical.  Ritschl’s  avowed 
antipathy  to  all  Pietism  and  Mysticism,  which  is  completely  shared 
by  his  adherents,  is  hence  intelligible  ”  (Geschichte  und  Kritik  der 
neueren  Theologie ,  3rd  ed.,  pp.  290 — 293).  Kaftan  and  Wendt  have  since 
done  something  to  remove  the  reproach  of  “  sterility  in  the  dogmatic, 
sphere.” 

58.  Geschichte  des  Pietismus  (3  vols.,  1880) 

59.  It  is  of  course  discussed  in  the  works  on  Ritschlianism,  but  special 
attention  may  be  called  to  Otto  Ritschl’s  TJeber  IF erthurteile  (1895)  ; 
Reischle,  W erthurteile  und  Glaubenswrteile  (1900)  ;  and  Garvie,  The 
Christian  Certainty  amid  the  Modern  Perplexity ,  pp.  239 — 278. 


The  History  of  Theology 


173 


knowledge,  but  we  reach  our  certainty  of  them  along  other 
lines.  The  distinction  comes  out  in  a  passage  in  the 
discussion  of  the  Divinity  of  Christ,  in  which  Bitschl 
contrasts  the  honour  he  pays  to  Christ  as  God  by  trusting 

for  His  salvation  to  the  efficacy  of  His  work,  with  the 

«/  ' 

formula  of  Chalcedon.  The  former  he  describes  as  “  a 
value-judgment  of  a  direct  kind,"  the  latter  as  “  a  judg¬ 
ment  which  belongs  to  the  sphere  of  disinterested  scientific 
knowledge.’’  The  formula  “Jesus  has  for  the  Christian 
consciousness  the  religious  value  of  God,”  though  not,  I 
believe,  actually  used  by  Bitschl,  sums  up  his  position  very 
well.  It  is  not  his  intention  to  deny  the  real  Divinity  of 
Christ,  though  of  course  it  still  remains  to  be  considered 
whether  his  conception  of  what  the  confession  of  Christ’s 
Divinity  involves  is  adequate.  But  he  is  concerned  to 
affirm  the  practical  worth  of  Jesus,  as  history  and  experi¬ 
ence  disclose  it.  Our  belief  in  God  is  similarly  a  judgment 
of  worth,  not  to  be  demonstrated  by  scholastic  proofs,  such 
as  the  time-honoured  theistic  arguments,  which  do  not 
succeed  in  yielding  us  the  kind  of  God  adequate  for  our 
religious  needs.  An  apologetic  on  old-fashioned  lines  is 
doomed  to  failure,  and  must  be  superseded  by  a  defence 
more  suited  to  the  subject-matter  itself. 

On  another  prominent  feature  of  Bitschl’s  work  I  have 
touched  already.  He  was  a  great  system-builder.  He 
complained  of  previous  theologians  that  in  their  exposition 
they  traversed  three  separate  points  of  view,  whereas  no 
system  could  be  truly  such  unless  the  theologian  occupied 
a  single  point  of  view  throughout.  What  did  not  prove 
amenable  to  this  treatment  was  in  danger  of  being  left 
aside.  As  a  source  for  Christian  theology  he  rejects  every¬ 
thing  that  is  external  to  it.  He  repudiates  all  help  from 
so-called  Natural  Beligion,60  nor  will  he  admit  that  we  can 

60.  “  But  if  anyone  builds  Christian  theology  on  a  substructure  of 
pretended  Natural  Theology,  the  rationalistic  arguments  of  Augustine 
about  original  sin,  and  those  of  Anselm  about  the  nature  of  redemption, 
he  thereby  takes  his  stand  outside  the  sphere  of  regeneration,  which  is 
coterminous  with  the  community  of  believers  ( Justification  and  Recon¬ 
ciliation,  p.  8). 


174  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


derive  anything  of  value  from  Comparative  Religion, 
except  a  clearer  understanding  of  the  differentia  of 
Christianity.  Schleiermacher  and  Hegel  had  recognised 
the  affinity  of  Christianity  with  other  religions,  though 
they  had  regarded  it  as  their  crown.  But  for  Ritsclil 
Christianity  was  not,  as  for  them,  the  finest  bloom  on  a 
plant  with  many  flowers,  it  did  not  grow  from  the  same 
root  or  even  from  the  same  soil.  Indeed  it  did  not  spring 
from  the  earth  at  all  but  came  down  from  above.  Nor 
could  any  expert  knowledge,  derived  from  the  study  of 
religion,  enable  one  to  place  Christianity  or  to  understand 
it.  It  was  wholly  unique  and  could  not  be  judged 
objectively  by  the  impartial  spectator  who  boasted  of  the 
freedom  from  presuppositions.61  Such  impartiality  really 
did  not  exist,  and  what  passed  for  it  constituted  the 
critic’s  complete  disqualification.  The  religion  could  be 
rightly  understood  only  from  the  inside.  He  says  :  “We 
are  able  to  know  and  understand  God,  sin,  conversion, 
eternal  life,  in  the  Christian  sense,  only  so  far  as  we 
consciously  and  intentionally  reckon  ourselves  members 
of  the  community  which  Christ  has  founded.” 62  And 
again,  “  If  we  can  rightly  know  God  only  if  we  knowT  Him 
through  Christ,  then  we  can  know  Him  only  if  we  belong 
to  the  community  of  believers.”  63  The  nature  of  the 
Redeemer  and  the  work  He  has  done  can  be  appraised 
aright  only  by  one  who  has  taken  his  stand  in  the 
community  he  has  founded,  and  “  as  a  member  of  it 
subordinates  himself  to  His  Person.”  We  know  Him  to 
be  God  because  we  have  found  Him  to  possess  this  value 
for  us.  To  quote  once  more,  “  We  should  pay  no  special 
attention  to  this  purpose  of  Jesus,  nor  should  we  seek  to 
discover  its  value  and  its  meaning,  did  we  not  reckon 

61.  “The  opposite  view  is  one  of  the  characteristics  which  mark  that 
great  untruth  which  exerts  a  deceptive  and  confusing  influence  under 
the  name  of  an  historical  ‘  absence  of  presuppositions’  ”  ( l.c pp.  2,  3). 

62.  Z.c.,  p.  4. 

63.  l.c.,  p.  7. 


175 


The  History  of  Theology 

ourselves  part  of  the  religious  community  which  first 
attested,  through  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament,  its 
possession  of  the  forgiveness  of  sins  as  effected  by  Jesus."64 

But  having  attained  this  qualification,  from  what  source 
are  we  to  draw  our  theology?  Not  from  the  individual 
consciousness  of  the  believer,  a  method  fraught  with  all 
the  perils  of  subjectivity.  It  is  one  of  the  most  charac¬ 
teristic  of  Ritsclil’s  positions  that  he  insists  on  the  priority 
of  the  community  to  the  individuals  who  compose  it.  It  is 
the  community  rather  than  the  individual  which  is  for  him 
the  object  of  justification  and  the  benefits  which  Christ 
has  procured  are  mediated  through  the  community  to  its 
members.  This  community  is  not  to  be  identified  with 
the  empirical  Church.  But,  while  it  would  be  truer  to 
speak  of  the  communal  consciousness  as  the  source  of 
theological  knowledge,  this  might  easily  create  a  false 
impression.  For  Ilitschl  desires  something  more  objec¬ 
tive,  fixed  and  not  fluctuating,  and  this  he  finds  in  the 
Gospel.65  It  is  the  Gospel  which  alone  creates  the 
Christian  consciousness,  it  is  in  it  that  this  consciousness 
finds  its  guarantee.  How  then  may  we  rightly  determine 
what  the  Gospel  is  ?  For  in  history  it  has  assumed  many 
forms,  all  of  them  claiming  to  be  the  authentic  reality. 
Bitschl’s  answer  is  that  we  must  find  our  norm  in  the  New 

64.  l.c.,  p.  2 

65.  I  follow  Kattenbusch  here,  who  thinks  that  Ritschl  himself  was 
not  clearly  conscious  that  this  constituted  the  distinguishing  feature  of 
his  theology  as  opposed  to  the  “  Romantic  ”  theologies,  and  that  he 
himself  was  the  first  to  emphasise  it  (Von  Schleiermacher  zu  Ritschl  t 
1st  ed.,  pp.  73 — 81).  The  emphasis  on  “the  Gospel”  as  a  watchword 
and  standard  is  characteristic  of  Harnack.  In  the  preface  to  the  third 
volume  of  his  Dogrnengeschichte  (3rd  ed.,  Eng.  trans.,  vol.  5)  he  meets 
the  criticism  “  that  in  this  account  the  development  of  Dogma  is  judged 
by  the  Gospel,  but  that  we  do  not  clearly  learn  what  the  Gospel  is”  by  a 
brief  epitome  of  what  he  takes  the  Gospel  to  be.  His  most  recent 
statement  is  in  the  4th  edition  vol.  i,  pp.  65—85. 


176  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


Testament.66  Not,  however,  that  he  based  this,  as  had 
often  been  done,  on  a  theory  of  inspiration.  He  reached 
his  conclusion  in  quite  another  way.  As  early  as  the 
second  century  the  pure  Gospel  had  been  contaminated  by 
Greek  Philosophy,  and  the  History  of  Dogma  had  been 
warped  from  that  time  onwards.  The  pure  Gospel  had 
not  been  recaptured  till  the  Deformation,  the  idea  of 
Reformers  before  the  Deformation  he  repudiates.  Of 
course  Catholic  elements  lingered  on  into  Protestant 
theology,  and  these  foreign  elements  are  to  be  eliminated. 
Nevertheless  the  Reformers  did  recover  the  genuine  Gospel 
and  place  the  emphasis  where  the  New  Testament  had 
placed  it.  But  why  should  this  unique  authority  be 
attributed  to  the  New  Testament,  and  in  what  sense  is  it  an 
authority?  Had  Ditschl  occupied  the  standpoint  of  pure 
Biblicism  the  question  would  not  of  course  arise ;  but  then 
his  theology  would  have  been  very  different  from  what  it 
was.  The  traditional  doctrine  of  inspiration  he  could  not 
accept,  for  there  was  much  in  Scripture  that  did  not 
command  his  assent.  Accordingly  he  found  the  guarantee 
of  the  value  he  assigned  to  the  New  Testament  in  the  fact 
that  the  Apostles  understood  the  Old  Testament  and 
interpreted  Christianity  from  that  standpoint.  Their 
view  was  not  corrupted,  as  that  of  their  successors,  by 

66.  “  It  stands  as  the  foundation-principle  of  the  Evangelical  Church 
that  Christian  doctrine  is  to  be  obtained  from  the  Bible  alone.  This 
principle  has  direct  reference  to  the  original  documents  of  the  Hebrew 
religion  gathered  together  in  the  New  Testament,  for  the  understanding 
of  which  the  original  documents  of  the  Hebrew  religion  gathered 
together  in  the  Old  Testament  serve  as  an  indispensable  aid.  These 
books  are  the  foundation  of  a  right  understanding  of  the  Christian 
religion  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  community,  for  the  reason  that 
the  Gospels  set  forth  in  the  work  of  its  Founder  the  immediate  cause 
and  final  end  of  the  common  religion,  and  the  Epistles  make  known  the 
original  state  of  the  common  faith  in  the  community,  and  moreover  in  a 
form  not  affected  by  the  influences  which  as  early  as  the  second  century 
had  stamped  Christianity  as  Catholic”  ( Unterricht ,  p.  2).  I  quote  the 
translation  in  Swing,  The  Theology  of  Albrecht  Bitschl ,  pp.  172,  173. 


The  History  of  Theology  177 

Greek  Philosophy,  nor  yet  by  Jewish  Babbinism.  But 
why,  it  may  be  asked,  did  not  Pitschl  content  himself 
with  finding  the  true  Christian  religion  in  the  utterances 
of  the  Founder?  Because  we  need  more  than  they  give  us 
if  we  are  to  understand  them.  “  Their  significance  becomes 
completely  intelligible  only  when  we  see  how  they  are 
reflected  in  the  consciousness  of  those  who  believe  in  Him, 
and  how  the  members  of  the  Christian  community  trace 
back  their  consciousness  of  pardon  to  the  Person  and  the 
action  and  passion  of  Jesus.”67  The  New  Testament  is  our 
only  source  for  the  knowledge  that  we  are  in  need  of,  and 
Bitschl  affirms  that  “  it  would  be  a  mistaken  purism  were 
anyone,  in  this  respect,  to  prefer  the  less  developed 
statements  of  Jesus  to  the  forms  of  apostolic  thought.”  68 
Yet,  as  I  have  already  hinted,  he  does  not  take  the  New 
Testament  as  it  stands  to  be  the  norm  of  the  Gospel.  It  is, 
as  one  might  expect  from  the  proof  he  gives  of  its  value, 
the  New  Testament  as  it  stands  in  continuity  with  the  Old 
Testament  and  carries  on  the  development  which  it 
initiated.  Moreover,  he  lays  stress  on  its  practical  as 
opposed  to  its  theoretical  contents.  Lipsius  expresses  the 
following  opinion  :  “  In  general,  one  might  say  that  the 
normative  character  of  Holy  Scripture  as  a  record  of 
Divine  revelation  is  not  conceived  by  Ritschl  essentially 
otherwise  than  in  the  whole  of  the  modern  theology  which 
had  its  starting  point  in  Schleiermacher.”  69 

When  we  have  thus  distilled  the  Gospel  from  the  New 
Testament,  we  can  employ  it  as  a  test  of  what  passes  for 
Christian  theology.  Thus  we  are  enabled  to  disentangle 
authentic  Christianity  from  foreign  elements  that  may  have 
intruded  into  it  out  of  the  New  Testament  itself  or  Greek 
philosophy  or  mediaeval  scholasticism  or  misdirected  move¬ 
ments  within  the  Protestant  Churches  or  modern  specula¬ 
tive  philosophy.  A  return  to  the  Gospel  is  imperative; 

67.  Justification  and  Reconciliation ,  Eng.  trans.,  p.  1. 

68.  l.c.,  p.  3. 

69.  Die  Ritschl'sche  Theologie,  p.  4. 


178  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


dogma  must  he  the  natural  expression  of  saving  faith,  all 
else  is  lumber.  With  this  touchstone  Bitschl  was  enabled 
to  pronounce  much  that  had  passed  for  gold  to  be  but 
spurious  metal.  He  resolutely  refuses  to  go  behind  the 
Gospel  as  it  meets  our  needs  and  enter  the  realm  of  the 
transcendental.  Thus  the  conception  of  God  as  the 
Absolute;  the  Christology  which  defines  Christ  as  consist¬ 
ing  of  two  Natures  in  one  Person;  the  pre-existence  of 
Christ,  are  swept  aside  by  him.  Whether  true  or  not,  they 
are  matters  with  which  we  are  not  concerned  and  on  which 
the  Gospel  has  nothing  to  declare.  The  very  order  in 
which  he  handles  the  doctrine  of  justification  and  recon¬ 
ciliation  is  significant  for  his  standpoint.  The  generally 
adopted  order  would  be  strictly  chronological;  to  begin 
with  the  Biblical  material,  then  to  pass  on  to  the  post- 
Biblical  development  of  the  doctrine  and  on  the  foundation 
thus  laid  reconstruct  the  doctrine  itself.  This  is  not 
Bitschl’s  method.  He  begins  with  the  history  of  the 
doctrine,  and  only  in  the  second  volume  takes  up  the 
investigation  of  the  Biblical  teaching,  and  connects 
immediately  with  it  the  positive  development  of  the 
doctrine  as  he  himself  reconstructed  it.  In  this  way  he 
gave  expression  to  his  reverence  for  Scripture  and  sense  of 
its  unique  value.  I  may  add  explicitly,  what  has  been 
already  suggested,  that  Bitschl  differed  from  Schleiermacher 
in  that  he  gave  the  Old  Testament  alongside  of  the  New  a 
permanent  place  in  the  Christian  religion.  The  two  stand 
in  organic  connexion,  the  Old  is  intended  to  lead  up  to  the 
New,  the  New  to  consummate  what  is  initiated  in  the  Old. 
Among  the  world’s  religions  the  religion  of  Israel  alone 
constituted  a  preparation  for  Christianity.  Apart  from  it 
the  Gospel  cannot  be  rightly  understood. 

So  far  then  I  have  been  speaking  of  the  sources  from 
which  our  knowledge  of  the  Gospel  is  derived  and  the 
criteria  by  which  the  authentic  Gospel  is  distinguished 
from  the  false  and  liberated  from  the  irrelevant.  What 
then  in  Bitschl’s  judgment  is  Christianity?  He  gives  a 


The  History  of  Theology  179 

definition  of  it  which  it  is  instructive  to  compare  with 
Schleiermacher’s.  “Christianity,  then,  is  the  monotheistic, 
completely  spiritual,  and  ethical  religion,  which,  based  on 
the  life  of  its  Author  as  Redeemer  and  as  Founder  of 
the  Kingdom  of  God,  consists  in  the  freedom  of  the 
children  of  God,  involves  the  impulse  to  conduct  from  the 
motive  of  love,  aims  at  the  moral  organisation  of  mankind, 
and  grounds  blessedness  on  the  relation  of  sonship  to 
God,  as  well  as  on  the  Kingdom  of  God.” 70  It  is 
noteworthy,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  ethical  is  set  so 
firmly  by  the  side  of  the  religious.  This  corresponded  to 
Ritschl’s  own  temperament  which  was  in  fact  ethical  rather 
than  religious.  He  insists  on  freedom,  which  is  with  him, 
however,  a  religious  as  well  as  an  ethical  idea,  a  conduct 
inspired  by  love,  and  the  moral  organisation  of  society  as 
the  goal  of  the  religion.  In  particular  it  is  characteristic 
that  the  Kingdom  of  God  receives  such  prominence  in  the 
definition.  The  first  volume  of  his  work  opens  with  the 
words,  “The  Christian  doctrine  of  Justification  and 
Reconciliation  which  I  purpose  to  unfold  in  a  scientific 
manner,  constitutes  the  real  centre  of  the  theological 
system.”  But  in  the  third  volume  he  complains  that 
theology  has  made  “  everything  which  concerns  the 
redemptive  character  of  Christianity  an  object  of  the 
most  solicitous  reflection.  Accordingly  it  finds  the  central 
point  of  all  Christian  knowledge  and  practice  in  redemption 
through  Christ,  while  injustice  is  done  to  the  ethical  inter¬ 
pretation  of  Christianity  through  the  idea  of  the  Kingdom 
of  God.  But  Christianity,  so  to  speak,  resembles  not  a 
circle  described  from  a  single  centre,  but  an  ellipse  which 
is  determined  by  two  foci”  71  The  true  reconciliation  of 
the  ethical  and  the  religious  elements  seems  to  him  the 
supreme  problem  in  theology.  For  in  religion  we  are 
conscious  of  our  absolute  dependence  on  God,  whereas  we 

70.  Justification  and  Reconciliation ,  p.  13. 

71.  l.c.,  p.  10. 


180  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

are  at  the  same  time  aware  of  our  Christian  freedom.  The 
Kingdom  of  God  is  defined  as  “  the  uninterrupted  recipro¬ 
cation  of  action  springing  from  the  motive  of  love — a 
Kingdom  in  which  all  are  known  together  in  union  with 
every  one  who  can  show  the  marks  of  a  neighbour;  further, 
it  is  that  union  of  men  in  which  all  goods  are  appropriated 
in  their  proper  subordination  to  the  highest  good.”  72  In 
the  light  of  this  idea  of  the  Kingdom  he  determines  the 
character  of  sin.  He  sets  aside  the  ecclesiastical  doctrine 
of  original  sin,  but  puts  in  its  place  the  idea  of  a  kingdom 
of  evil.  The  subject  of  sin  is  humanity  as  the  sum  of  all 
individuals.  Its  real  character  can  be  understood  only  by 
comparison  with  the  good,  that  is,  the  Kingdom  of  God. 
All  grades  of  sin  are  recognised,  but,  apart  from  a  possible 
final  obduracy,  which,  as  a  matter  lying  within  God’s 
cognisance,  does  not  concern  us,  they  may  be  reduced  to 
sins  of  ignorance.  No  propitiation  of  God  is  necessary 
since  He  forgives  of  free  love.  The  work  which  Christ 
achieved  by  steadfast  adhesion  to  His  vocation  in  obedience 
to  the  will  of  God  was  that  He  founded  the  Kingdom.  He 
thus  exhibited  the  love  of  God  in  such  a  way  as  to  remove 
from  men’s  hearts  the  mistrust  which  they  feel  towards 
God.  We  must  remember,  however,  that  with  Ritschl 
terms  do  not  always  bear  their  face-value.  They  may  have 
a  distorted  or  reduced  significance.  He  emphasises  love, 
but  it  bears  in  his  terminology  an  unusual  sense.  He  gives 
the  following  definition  :  “  Love  is  the  constant  purpose  to 
further  another  rational  being  of  like  nature  with  oneself 
in  the  attainment  of  his  peculiar  end,  and  in  such  a 
way  that  the  one  who  loves  follows  in  so  doing  his 
own  proper  object.” 73  What  is  specially  striking 
is  the  absence  of  any  recognition  of  the'  emotional 
element  in  love.  That  is  in  fact  very  characteristic 
of  Ritschl.  The  idea  of  fellowship  with  God  is 
not  recognised  in  the  sense  which  the  term  generally 

72.  Z.c.,  pp.  334f. 

73.  Unterrichb,  1st  ed.,  p.  10.  I  quote  from  Eng.  trans.,  p.  185. 


The  History  of  Theology  181 

bears.  Herrmann’s  famous  and  often  uplifting  book  “  The 
Communion  of  the-  Christian  with  God  ”  restricts  it  to  the 
experience  which  we  gain  through  contact  with  the 
historical  Jesus.  “We  cannot  speak  of  a  communion  with 
the  exalted  Christ.”  74  Everything  in  the  nature  of 
Mysticism  is  abhorrent  to  Ritschl.  Pietism  is  the  object 
of  his  bitter  and  contemptuous  hostility.  That  sober, 
moderate,  unadventurous  spirit  would  never  have  earned 
for  itself  the  judgment  of  Eestus  on  Paul.  He  may  have 
done  well  to  dislike  sentimentalism,  only  people  are  too 
apt  to  dismiss  as  sentiment  the  most  precious  things  life 
has  to  offer  us.  He  sneers  at  the  penitence  of  the  Pietists 
or  “  their  tempestuous  prayers  for  assurance  ”  as  morbid 
exaggeration,  nor  will  he  allow  any  mystical  union  with 
the  exalted  Christ.  No  doubt  there  was  much  in  Pietism 
that  was  unhealthy,  as  one  can  readily  convince  oneself  by 
inspection  of  religious  diaries  in  which  the  fluctuations  of 
the  pulse  and  the  readings  of  the  clinical  thermometer  are 
minutely  registered.  To  such  aberrations  as  these  it  was 
well  enough  for  the  healthy-minded  theologian  to  say, 
Look  away  from  yourself  and  your  feelings  to  Christ  as 
the  channel  of  God’s  grace.  Only  some  pity  may  perhaps 
be  felt  for  one  who  wades  where  he  might  swim  or  is 
content  with  tramping  when  he  might  be  soaring  towards 
the  sky.  He  says  explicitly,  “  Love  to  God  has  no  sphere 
of  activity  outside  of  love  to  one’s  brother.” 

His  uncompromising  opposition  to  Pietism  was  of  course 
largely  explained  by  the  strength  of  his  Protestantism.'5 
He  saw  in  Catholicism  a  rival  and  lower  form  of  religion 
which  had  simply  to  be  fought;  schemes  of  reunion  or 
compromise  were  vain  dreams.  His  objection  to  Pietism 
was  that  it  was  an  attenuated  form  of  Catholicism 
masquerading  as  Protestantism.  If  Pietism  prevailed  in 
the  evangelical  Churches  they  could  not  permanently 

74.  The  Communion  of  the  Christian  with  God  (Crown  Theological 
Library),  p.  291. 

75.  On  this  see  Harnack,  Reden  und  Aufsatze ,  vol.  ii,  pp.  353 — 355. 


182  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


maintain  themselves  against  Catholicism.  In  judging  his 
verdict  we  may  usefully  remember  what  he  says  of  those 
who  judge  Christianity  from  the  outside.76 

I  have  no  space  in  which  to  trace  Bitschl’s  own  theology 
in  further  detail  or  to  follow  the  progress  of  the  School,  to 
mark  the  wide  variations  that  have  disclosed  themselves 
within  it,  or  the  cleavage  into  a  right  and  left  wing,  the 
former  approximating  more  closely  to  the  general  beliefs 
of  the  Church,  the  latter  diverging  more  and  more  from 
them.  But  some  words  may  be  added  which  will  also  serve 
the  purpose  of  touching  on  more  recent  developments.  In 
the  first  place,  Bitschl  would  probably  have  consulted  his 
own  reputation  if  he  had  left  philosophy  alone.  He  had 
far  more  competence  for  theology  in  which  he  was  an 
expert  of  the  first  rank.  One  may  discount  Pfleiderer’s 
judgment  to  some  extent  on  the  score  of  prejudice,  but  it 
was  the  verdict  of  a  very  competent  judge.77  And  two 
further  criticisms  have  been  made.  One  may  be  expressed 
in  this  way,  that,  having  turned  philosophy  out  at  the 
front  door,  he  smuggles  her  in  at  the  back ;  the  other,  that 
under  the  label  of  metaphysics  he  gets  rid  of  truths  vital  to 
Christianity.  In  the  next  place,  Bitschl  lays  his  founda¬ 
tion  in  the  New  Testament,  but  just  here  he  has  failed  to 

76.  Frank,  with  full  recognition  of  the  weaker  sides  of  Pietism, 
protests  against  Ritschl’s  unjust  depreciation  ( Geschichte  und  Kritik  der 
neueren  Theologie,  pp.  34 — 39). 

77.  “  On  a  closer  inspection,  however,  this,  his  famous  theory  of 
cognition,  is  seen  to  be  only  a  dilettante  confusion  of  the  irreconcilable 
views  of  subjective  idealism,  which  resolves  things  into  phenomena  of 
consciousness,  and  common-sense  realism,  which  looks  upon  the  phenomena 
of  consciousness  as  things  themselves,  admitting  no  distinction  between 
phenomena  as  perceived  by  us  and  the  being  of  things  in  themselves. 

. In  spite  of  its  intrinsic  worthlessness,  it  is  well  calculated  to 

furnish  this  theology,  in  its  wavering  between  the  subjective  dissolution 
of  the  objects  of  theology  and  the  affirmation  of  their  objective  reality, 
with  an  appearance  of  scientific  justification  having  a  certain  attraction 
at  least  for  amateurs  in  these  questions  ”  (Development  of  Theology, 
p.  183). 


The  History  of  Theology  183 

test  the  quality  of  his  materials.  From  the  first  his 
interpretation  of  Scripture  aroused  adverse  criticism.  It 
has  been  widely  felt  to  be  far  too  much  controlled  by 
dogmatic  bias.  Moreover,  while  in  criticism  he  was  a 
great  deal  nearer  the  truth  than  Baur,  yet  there  are 
important  points  in  which  he  would  not  win  general  assent. 
And  when  we  pass  from  criticism  to  theology,  matters 
become  more  serious  still.  The  New  Testament,  Hitachi 
held,  was  differentiated  from  the  post-Biblical  literature 
by  its  immunity  from  Gentile  influence.  The  Apostles 
understood  the  Old  Testament,  and  therefore  interpreted 
the  Gospel  aright.  Moreover,  they  were  not  infected  with 
Rabbinism  on  the  one  side  or  Greek  Philosophy  on  the 
other.  But  here  a  large  and  growing  school  would  protest. 
The  Fourth  Gospel,  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  even  the 
Pauline  Epistles  are  declared  to  have  been  not  a  little 
touched  by  Gentile  influences,  by  Greek  Philosophy, 
notably  Stoicism,  and  by  the  Greek  Mysteries.  This  may 
or  may  not  be  true.  Personally,  I  may  express  the  opinion 
that  at  least  with  reference  to  Paul  the  influence  has  been 
much  exaggerated.  But  I  do  not  doubt  its  presence  in  the 
Fourth  Gospel  and  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  and  even  in 
this  restricted  form  the  results  of  research  make  Ritschl’s 
position  here  difficult.  Again,  the  Kingdom  of  God 
receives  in  his  theology  a  dominant  position.  But  the 
question  was  bound  to  arise,  Did  Jesus  mean  by  the  term 
what  Ritschl  believed  that  He  meant?  If  not,  then, 
however  intrinsically  admirable  Ritschl’s  exposition  of  the 
idea  might  be,  it  ceases  to  express  the  idea  of  the  Founder. 
And  it  is  in  the  Ritschlian  School  itself  that  the  sharpest 
expression  has  been  given  to  the  conviction  that  here 
Ritschl  read  his  own  ideas  into  the  teaching  of  Jesus.  His 
own  son-in-law,  Johannes  Weiss,  published  in  1892  the 
first  edition  of  his  work  “  Jesus’  Proclamation  of  the 
Kingdom  of  God,”78  which  expressed  what  has  come  to 
78.  Die  Predigt  Jesu  vom  Reiche  Gottes  (1892).  The  second  edition, 
under  the  same  title,  was  published  in  1900,  it  was  more  than  three 
times  as  long. 


184  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


be  known  as  “  consistent  ”  or  “  radical  eschatology  ”  in  its 
sharpest  form.  In  the  much  enlarged  and  less  extreme 
second  edition  he  explains  the  origin  of  the  first.  He  says 
that  in  the  school  of  Kitsch!  he  had  become  convinced  of 
the  exceptional  significance  of  this  conception  which 
formed  the  organic  centre  of  KitschTs  theology,  and  is  still 
of  the  opinion  that  his  system,  and  in  particular  this 
central  thought  presents  that  form  of  doctrine  which  is 
best  fitted  to  commend  the  Christian  religion  to  our 
generation,  and  rightly  understood  and  expressed  to 
awaken  and  to  foster  a  healthy  and  strong  religious  life  as 
we  need  it  to-day.  But  he  was  early  disturbed  by  the  clear 
perception  that  Kitschl’s  view  of  the  Kingdom  of  God,  and 
the  idea  which  bore  the  same  name  in  the  teaching  of  Jesus 
■were  two  very  different  things.  Further  researches  con¬ 
vinced  him  that  the  real  roots  of  Kitschl’s  idea  were  to  be 
found  in  Kant  and  the  Illumination  Theology.79  In 
another  respect  Kitschl’s  position  is  attacked  by  those  who 
have  been  formed  in  the  school,  I  mean  the  attitude 
adopted  by  him  towards  other  religions. 

Here  then,  with  a  keen  consciousness  of  the  imperfect 
way  in  which  I  have  accomplished  my  task  and  with  a 
sense  that  even  the  best  possible  fulfilment  of  it  under  the 
conditions  would  have  been  wholly  inadequate  to  exhibit 
the  depth  and  richness  of  the  development,  I  bring  this 
lecture  to  a  close.  It  is  wdiolesome  for  us  to  remind 
ourselves  how  fully  German  the  development  has  been  and 
how  little  has  been  contributed  to  it  from  foreign  sources. 
Our  own  theology,  where  it  has  not  been  too  deeply  limited 
by  insularity  to  learn  from  Germany,  has  in  the  past 
greatly  profited  by  its  teaching.  It  might  profit  very  much 
more.  The  more  we  borrow,  the  sooner  we  shall  be  able  to 
begin  repaying  our  debts. 

79.  P.  v.  He  devotes  to  Ritschl’s  doctrine  of  the  Kingdom  the  closing 
section  of  his  lecture,  Die  Idee  des  Reiches  Gottes  in  der  Theologit 
(1901). 


VII. — THE  HISTORY  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


BY 

BERNARD  BOSANQUET,  LL.D.,  F.B.A. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


German  philosophy  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century  lived  in  a  world  of  mingled  hope  and  despair,  a 
world  of  daring  genius,  of  spiritual  adventure  and 
romance.  To-day  it  is  environed  by  a  structure  of 
immense  substantial  achievement,  where  the  conquest  of 
nature  through  science  and  the  opening  of  fresh  horizons 
through  mathematics  seem  correlative  to  the  transforma¬ 
tion  of  society  by  material  and  political  progress.  Its 
energy  indeed  is  undiminished ;  but  how  far  in  its  highly 
complex  creations,  bearing  traces  of  the  pessimism  and 
positivism  of  the  mid-century,  either  the  old  greatness 
survives,  or  a  new  greatness  has  come  to  birth,  is  what  in 
these  few  pages  we  must  attempt  to  estimate. 

The  task  which  I  have  incautiously  undertaken  is 
so  impossible  that  in  a  sense  it  becomes  possible  again. 
To  convey  in  a  single  lecture  any  idea  of  the  detail 
of  that  immense  and  intricate  structure  of  which 
we  are  to  speak  is  plainly  beyond  possibility. 
More  plainly  so,  as  we  approach  the  latter  part  of  the 
period,  when  the  immense  intellectual  activity  of  the 
German  empire  is  supplemented  by  Austrian  thought,  and 
we  find  ourselves  in  the  presence  of  a  vast  organisation  of 
highly  capable  and  energetic  students,  in  continuous  and 
many-sided  co-operation,  whose  articulate  detail  no  one 
but  a  working  member  of  their  body  could  expect  fully  to 
appreciate.  But  it  may  be  feasible,  in  the  few  minutes 
before  us,  to  express  some  relevant  thoughts  as  to  the 
rhythm  and  main  direction  of  that  great  composite 
current.  This  at  least  is  what  I  mean  to  attempt  without 
further  delay. 

The  rhythm  and  main  direction,  I  said.  Let  us  hazard 
one  or  two  guesses  at  it,  which  by  their  several  inadequacies 


188  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


may  throw  light  upon  each  other.  At  first  sight  we  seem 
to  recognise  the  common  triple  rhythm,  from  which  it  is 
so  hard  to  escape;  the  rhythm  of  creation  disintegration 
and  recovery;  and  in  the  end  I  believe  that  this  simple 
scheme  will  be  found  in  a  sense  to  hold  good.  But  if  such 
is  the  rhythm  of  the  movement,  what  is  the  main 
direction?  Is  it  circular  or  progressive?  Is  it,  for 
example,  to  be  described  as  Metaphysic,  Positivism,  and 
Metaphysic  again?  This  is  what  many  of  us  would  like 
to  believe;  say,  for  instance,  in  rough  popular  language, 
that  the  movement  was :  first,  Hegelian ;  second,  neo- 
Kantian  or  anti-Hegelian ;  and  finally,  neo-Hegelian.  But 
the  third  term,  at  least,  in  this  latter  division,  would 
be  fiercely  repudiated,  I  should  suppose,  by  nearly  all  the 
German  scholars  of  to-day;  and  even  in  the  first  term 
there  would  be  an  undue  narrowness. 

We  shall  be  more  cautious  and  more  accurate  if  we  start 
purely  from  the  relation  to  Kant,  which  is  fundamental 
for  the  German  nineteenth  century,  and  speak  of  the  post- 
Kantian,  the  neo-Kantian,  and,  to  invent  a  horrible  term, 
which  I  will  not  use  more  than  once,  the  post-neo-Kantian 
period.  In  this  rough  blackboard  sketch  the  term  post- 
Kantian  would  cover  the  time  from  the  beginning  of  Fichte 
to  the  final  recognition  of  Schopenhauer  by  the  world,  say 
from  1794  to  1844;  the  term  neo-Kantian  applies  to  the 
movement  made  explicit  in  1865  by  Liebmann’s  tract  on 
Kant  and  theEpigoni,  which  raised  the  banner  of  the  return 
to  Kant,  a  phrase  which  came  to  indicate  an  anti- 
metaphysical  crusade;  and  the  term  which  I  applied 
to  the  later  neo-Kantian  movement  along  with  other 
contemporary  developments  might  be  construed  with  refer¬ 
ence  to  1888  and  after,  when  Avenarius’  critique  of  pure 
experience  had  suggested  a  return  to  constructive  and 
systematic  thinking,  and  heralded  the  appearance  of 
affirmative  speculation  in  many  directions,  including  the 
latest  neo-Kantian  work  itself. 

These  terms  are  relative  to  Kant.  Now  it  is  hopeless  for 


The  History  of  Philosophy  189 

us  to  interpret  Kant  this  evening.  So  the  history  must 
interpret  him  for  us.  That  is  to  say,  we  must  make  the 
considerable  assumption  that  whatever  any  serious  school 
of  thinkers  have  found  in  Kant,  must  in  some  sense  and 
in  some  degree  he  really  there.  Thus  while  we  devote  no 
special  passage  to  Kant,  our  whole  discussion  will  be  in 
substance  an  exegesis  of  him.  And  this  is  perhaps  the 
safest  way  of  interpreting  great  men. 

But  now,  before  I  can  go  forward  with  our  scheme, 
there  is  a  comprehensive  reservation  to  be  made,  which 
you  may  think  nearly  fatal.  In  the  latter  two-thirds  of 
the  nineteenth  century  there  appeared  a  series  of  remark¬ 
able  men  whose  attitude,  so  far  as  I  understand  it, 
could  not  he  adjusted  on  the  whole  to  the  scheme  I  have 
indicated.  And  moreover  they  were  the  very  men  whose 
names  might  first  occur  to  us  foreigners  in  approaching 
our  subject — distinguished  men,  such  as  Fechner,  Lotze, 
von  Hartmann,  Sigwart,  Wundt,  Paulsen.  It  is  a  strange 
case.  To  some  of  these  we  owe,  I  suppose,  what  is  most 
characteristic  in  modern  psychology,  for  example,  the  idea 
of  parallelism,  which  has  even  claimed  to  be  more  than 
psychological,  and  the  whole  new  departure  of  experi¬ 
mental  psychology ;  to  others  we  owe  excellent  methodical 
work  in  Logic;  to  all  of  them,  striking  suggestions  in 
special  regions  of  philosophy.  But,  as  far  as  I  can  judge, 
in  philosophy  proper  they  were  all  working  a  thinner 
vein  than  the  great  post-Kantians ;  and  though  for  that 
very  reason  more  popular  at  the  moment,  as  for  example 
through  the  picturesque  idea  of  pan-psychism,  they  did 
not  directly  contribute  to  the  central  conflict  of  metaphysic 
and  anti-metaphysic  which  marks  the  rhythm  of  the 
century. 

For  our  purpose  this  evening  then,  our  very  meagre 
purpose,  I  think  we  must  simply  set  them  aside,  noting 
in  them,  however,  a  certain  growth  of  voluntarism,  and 
also  an  intensification  of  the  psychological  attitude,  lead¬ 
ing  by  reaction  to  an  emancipation  from  psychology,  which 


190  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

has  had  an  important  effect  upon  the  central  current  of 
philosophy. 

Thus  we  return  to  try  and  obtain  a  definite  impression 
from  our  scheme  of  post-Kantian  followed  by  neo-Kantian 
thought  leading  to  the  latest  forms  of  the  latter  along  with 
other  constructive  developments. 

1.  Let  us  place  ourselves,  to  begin  with,  at  the  first 
movement  of  the  new  rhythm,  at  the  source  of  the  great 
current.  Let  us  follow  Hegel,  at  the  age  of  25,  as  he 
writes  to  his  precocious  friend  Schelling,  a  youth  of  20, 
in  the  year  1795,  half-way  through  that  last  decade  of  the 
eighteenth  century  in  which  all  creative  influences  seemed 
concentrating  to  make  a  new  thing.1 

“  From  the  Kantian  system  and  its  fullest  completion  I 
anticipate  a  revolution  in  Germany,  which  will  start  from 
principles  already  forthcoming  and  only  needing  to  be 
systematised  and  applied  to  existing  knowledge.  No  doubt 
there  will  always  be  something  of  an  esoteric2  philosophy, 
and  the  idea  of  God  as  the  Absolute  Ego  will  belong  to  it.” 
Then,  after  referring  to  Kant’s  Critique  of  the  Practical 
Reason,  and  to  Fichte’s  Foundation  of  the  whole 
Doctrine  of  Science  (1794),  he  continues  :  “  The  inferences 
therefrom  will  one  day  astound  a  great  many  distinguished 
people.  They  will  be  giddy  at  the  supreme  elevation  by 
which  man  will  be  so  high  exalted ;  yet  why  has  the  world 
been  so  slow  to  raise  its  estimate  of  human  dignity  (or 
value,  a  Kantian  phrase),  and  to  recognise  the  capacity  of 
freedom  (Kantian)  which  sets  him  in  the  highest  rank  of 
spirits.”  He  is  studying  Fichte’s  Wissenschaftslehre ; 
Schiller’s  Letters  on  the  ^Esthetic  Education  of  Man, 
which  had  just  appeared  in  “  Horen,”  seem  to  him  a 
masterpiece,  and  he  is  full  of  their  language.  Hegel’s 
letter  is  revolutionary  and  humanitarian  throughout.  We 

1.  Hegel’s  Brief e  (Karl  Hegel),  p.  15. 

2.  Esoteric,  because  it  involved  what  would  now  be  called  the  identifi¬ 
cation  of  God  with  the  Absolute,  an  idea  diverging  sharply  from  Kant, 
and  irreconcilable  with  the  needs  of  religion  in  the  strict  sense. 


The  History  of  Philosophy 


191 


know,  of  course,  how  the  opposite  of  all  this  was  imputed 
to  Hegel  in  his  later  years.  Nevertheless,  this  is  the  real 
clue  to  the  system. 

Here  we  have  in  a  single  focus  the  operative  elements  of 
the  main  post-Kantian  movement.  Hegel,  we  see,  has 
no  doubt  whatever  that  he  is  creatively  inspired  by  Kant, 
in  pursuing  Fichte’s  idea  of  the  self  as  the  key  to  the 
universe,  while  reinforcing  it  by  the  concrete  aesthetic 
insight  of  Schiller  and  Goethe.  This  latter  element, 
absent  in  Kant,  came  to  Hegel  in  conjunction  with 
Schelling’s  vision  of  a  living  concrete,  as  the  revelation 
of  a  spirit  at  one  with  sense,  and  a  world  of  reality  in 
which  mind  and  matter  were  only  relative  distinctions. 
In  Hegel’s  own  judgment3 — I  refer  for  a  moment  to  what 
I  have  urged  elsewhere — the  deepest  vein  of  philosophical 
inspiration  ran  from  Kant  to  Schiller,  and  from  Schiller 
to  Schelling.  It  was  in  Schillers  re-creation  of  the  Kantian 
aesthetic  theory  from  letter  to  spirit,  from  fragments 
to  a  living  system,  that  Schelling,  in  Hegel’s  opinion, 
found  the  secret  of  the  Absolute.  Schiller  treated  the 
question  as  one  of  liberating  the  spirit  of  Kant  from  the 
letter.4  According  to  the  letter  of  his  philosophy,  Schiller 
observes,  sense  and  reason,  matter  and  mind,  may  be 
hostile,  but  in  its  spirit  they  are  at  one.  14  Now  if  man 
is  free  without  ceasing  to  be  sensuous,  as  the  fact  of 
beauty  teaches,  and  if  freedom  is  something  absolute  and 
supra-sensuous  as  its  idea  necessarily  involves,  then  it  can 
no  longer  be  a  question  how  man  ascends  from  the  limits 
(of  time  and  sense)  to  the  absolute.”  This  is  what  the 
Kantian  Schiller,  blending  his  mind  with  Goethe’s  in  that 
wonderful  ten  years,  from  1790  to  1800,  handed  on  to 
Schelling  and  Hegel. 

Thus,  in  terms  of  the  standard  we  have  selected,  the 

3.  Hegel.  Aesthetik,  i.  78,  80.  E.Tr.  (Bosanquet),  p.  116.  Bosanquet’s 
History  of  Aesthetic,  p.  286. 

4.  Schiller.  Brief e  iiber  die  Aesthetische  Erziehung  des  Menschen, 
Br.  25 ;  H.  of  A.  290-1. 


192  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


essential  character  of  the  post-Kantian  movement  is,  so 
to  speak,  the  forward  interpretation  of  Kant ;  the  sweeping 
away  of  distinctions  and  reservations,  and  repudiating  all 
phenomenalism  and  all  the  subjectivism  of  the  “  As  If.” 
The  world  of  a  single  experience,  which  Kant  called  into 
being,  but  had  left  anchored,  as  it  were,  to  unknown 
external  attachments,  was  now  to  be  self-contained  and 
self-supporting,  like  the  solar  system,  without  reference 
to  any  unfathomable  beyond. 

For  comparison  with  later  philosophy  the  attitude  to 
the  criticism  of  knowledge  is  fundamental.  It  has  been 
said  that  the  post-Kantian  movement  is  based  on  a  critical 
theory  of  knowledge  as  a  science  essentially  prior  to 
metaphysic.5  Now,  if  we  mean  that  it  accepted  and  built 
upon  the  analysis  of  experience  which  revealed  its  central 
and  systematic  unity,  the  contention  is  just.  But  if  we 
mean  that  it  accepted  the  idea  of  a  criticism  which  should 
test  the  capacities  of  the  intellectual  instrument  and 
ascertain  their  limits  before  proceeding  to  its  use,  such 
an  epistemology  is  wholly  foreign  to  the  post-Kantian 
movement,  and  was  always  regarded  by  it  as  an  absurdity. 
It  is  rejected  by  Hegel,  in  a  wrell-known  passage,  as  a 
method  of  learning  to  swim  before  going  into  the  water.6 
The  whole  point  and  bearing  of  the  new  way  was  to  go 
straight  to  metaphysic,  on  the  understanding  that  reality 
is  everywhere  and  in  everything,  and  that  truth  is  to  be 
attained  only  in  the  self-grounding  and  self-criticising 
whole. 

We  are  to  bear  in  mind  then,  in  order  to  understand 
the  rhythm  we  are  following,  that  for  this  passionate  and 
revolutionary  movement  the  enemy  is  every  form  of  the 

5.  The  New  Realism ,  p.  60,  and  ib.,  Introd.,  p.  20.  Cp.  Riehl,  Science 
and  Metaphysics,  E.Tr.,  p.  137. 

6.  Encycl.,  S.  41.  For  Nelson’s  comment,  see  Acts  of  the  Bologna 
Congress,  i.  266.  A  question  might  be  raised  whether  Nelson  gives  due 
weight  to  the  idea  of  knowledge  being  its  own  criterion,  which  I  take 
to  be  the  position  indicated  by  Hegel. 


193 


The  History  of  Philosophy 

inaccessible  “  beyond/’  the  unattainable  “  ought,”  the 
unrealisable  or  fictitious  “  ideal,”  the  asymptotic  and 
unending  progress  to  perfection.  The  movement  embodied, 
we  may  say,  the  spirit  of  religion  as  opposed  to,  or  as 
containing  in  subordination,  the  spirit  of  morality.  For  it 
the  object  of  philosophy  was  “  not  remote,  but  in  the 
fullest  sense  present  ”7 ;  perfection  was  always  to  be 
realised,  but  none  the  less  was  the  reality  of  things.  The 
paradox  thus  resulting,  the  realisation  of  the  real,  was  for 
those  thinkers  the  very  essence  of  life  and  of  philosophy. 
It  involves  the  attitude  which  is  expressed  in  the  highest 
teaching  of  Goethe  :  — 

“  Und  so  lang  du  das  nicht  hast 
Dieses  ‘  Stirb  und  werde,’ 

Bist  du  nur  ein  triiber  Gast 
Auf  der  dunklen  Erde.” 

“  4  Die  to  live  ’ — for  thou  who  hast  not 
Made  this  law  thine  own 
Art  but  an  embarrassed  novice 
In  a  world  unknown.” 

German  scholars  of  to-day  wrould,  I  suspect,  approve  the 
poetry,  but  reject  the  philosophy.  It  is  not  my  purpose 
here  to  argue  that  they  are  w^rong ;  but  if  any  of  them 
should  chance  to  see  these  words  they  will  pardon  the 
enthusiasm  of  a  foreigner  to  whom  the  poetry  itself  comes 
as  a  greater  thing  wdien  inspired  with  the  argumentative 
passion  of  a  generation  of  philosophers  wdiose  thought  and 
courage  were  so  high. 

And  now  let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  the  character  of  the 
method  or  argument  which  formed  the  mainspring  of  this 
movement.  Let  us  look  at  it  with  our  own  eyes,  in  its 
primary  form,  as  Eichte  states  it  m  his  first  and  second 

7.  Hegel,  Encycl.,  94. 


M 


194  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


Introductions  to  the  doctrine  of  Knowledge,8  where  he 
reiterates  his  account  of  the  matter,  failing  to  see  why 
anyone  should  misunderstand  what  seems  to  him  so  plain. 

Intelligence,  he  says,  is  an  action,  not  even  an  activity; 
i.e.  it  only  exists  in  and  by  acting — it  is,  as  might  be 
said  to-day,  a  function.  The  proper  way  to  get  to  know 
it  is  to  set  it  at  work  and  watch  it.  You  must  do  some¬ 
thing;  you  must  act  or  affirm.  Then,  and  then  only,  you 
can  see  how,  essentially,  intelligence  must  work  if  it  is  to 
work  at  all,  and  again,  essentially,  what  its  working 
implies.  “As  long  as” — these  are  Fichte’s  words — “you 
have  not  shown  the  whole  thing  arising  before  the  thinker’s 
eyes,  Dogmatism  is  not  tracked  to  its  ultimate  lair.” 
Or  again,  “  The  thinker  institutes  an  experiment.”  He 
sets  the  object  at  work,  and  traces  the  necessary  connections 
of  the  phenomena,  and  what  further  conditions  they 
involve. 

So  with  the  ego.  He  asks  you  to  observe  it  acting; 
and  you  see,  for  example,  that  essentially  it  must  have 
something  to  act  on.  The  act  involves  an  opposition;  the 
affirmation  involves  a  reality  beyond  itself.  This  is  the 
only  thing  an  affirmation  as  such  can  mean ;  it  means 
that  something  is,  independently  of  the  affirmation.  This 
is  the  kind  of  reasoning  by  which  Fichte  has  been  supposed 
to  construct  the  universe  out  of  the  ego.  It  is,  in  essence, 
observing  very  carefully  what  is  necessarily  implied  in  the 
play  of  a  certain  function. 

It  is  much  the  same  with  Hegel’s  Dialectic,  which  owes 

8.  Fichte.  Erste  Einleitung  in  die  Wissenschaftslehre.  Werke,  i.  440, 
“  Die  Intelligenz  ist  dem  Idealismus  ein  Thun,  und  absolnt  nichts  weiter, 
nicht  einmal  ein  Thatigkeit  soli  man  sie  nennen.”  443  ff,  454,  “  Er  (der 
Philosoph)  stellt  ein  Experiment  an.”  Cf.  W.  Wallace,  Prolegomena 
to  Hegel’s  Logic,  p.  125,  “  Instead  of  a  glance  at  the  secret  substructure 
of  the  world,  you  see  it  [in  Fichte]  at  a  magician’s  mandate  building 
itself  up ;  stone  calling  to  stone,  and  beam  to  beam,  to  fill  up  the  gaps, 
and  bind  the  walls  together  .  .  .  you  are  summoned  as  a  partner  in  the 
work,  etc.” 


The  History  of  Philosophy 


195 


a  great  deal  to  Fichte,  and  a  great  deal  to  Kant.9  It  is  at 
bottom,  I  think,  just  the  bare  and  fundamental  appeal  to 
the  essence  of  all  system  and  inference.  Hegel  may  have 
talked  rashly,  but  we  have  to  look  at  the  facts.  It  works 
like  this.  Begin  anywhere  in  experience;  affirm  anything 
and  let  the  mind  work  on  the  affirmation.  You  will  find 
your  affirmation  confronted  with  another,  different,  but 
claiming  the  same  place,  that  is,  contradictory.  Then,  to 
satisfy  your  thought,  you  have  to  discover  or  contrive  some 
further  complex  which  will  put  both  affirmations  in  their 
right  place  with  the  necessary  corrections.  The  driving 
force  is  the  necessity  that  the  complex  which  your  thought 
affirms  should  be  self-consistent.  All  thinking  and 
inference  without  any  exception  depends  upon  this 
principle. 

It  is  quite  beside  the  mark  to  ask  where  the  matter 
of  the  affirmations  comes  from,  whether  from  “  pure 
thought  ”  or  from  “  experience.”  It  all  comes  from 
somewhere;  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  that;  nothing  comes 
out  of  nothing,  and,  apart  from  methodical  explanation, 
this  contrast  is  wffiolly  meaningless.  But  the  only 
question  is,  what  you  have  to  think  true  or  real  when  you 
have  got  it  before  you.  Before  the  court  of  Logic,  the 
history  of  a  proposition  is  not  evidence,  but  mere  hearsay. 
The  question  about  any  affirmation  is  how  it  now  fits  in 
with  all  that  you  are  aware  of  beside  it.  Every  affirma- 

9.  For  appreciations  of  the  dialectic  free  from  the  bias  of  the  reaction 
see  Wallace,  op.  cit.,  p.  369,  McTaggart,  Studies  in  Hegelian  Dialectic , 
p.  4,  and  Bradley's  Principles  of  Logic ,  Book  III,  Part  1,  ch.  2,  sect.  20. 
Trendelenburg’s  famous  criticism  (Logische  Untersuchungen,  1840 — 1870) 
belongs  to  the  opening  of  our  second  phase — the  reaction  in  full  blast. 
‘Trendelenburg,’  says  Hartmann,  “‘means  low-water  mark  in  German 
philosophy,”  ’  Wallace,  l.c.  Compare  further  with  the  passage 
above  quoted  from  Fichte,  and  with  the  principle  of  Husserl’s 
Phenomenology,  F.  H.  Bradley,  Essays  on  Truth  and  Reality  (1914) 
p.  311.  “The  method  actually  followed  (by  Mr.  Bradley)  may  be  called 
in  the  main  the  procedure  used  by  Hegel,  that  of  a  direct  ideal 
experiment  made  on  reality.” 


196  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


tion  is  modified  as  you  combine  it  with  others.  Even  in 
a  common  three-term  inference  the  premisses  modify  each 
other,  and  the  conclusion  is  a  new  system.  Thus,  once 
more,  the  method  is  one  of  ideal  experiment.  You  survey 
strictly  a  certain  complex,  and  you  find  that  in  principle 
it  admits  of  only  certain  affirmations.  The  reason  lies 
in  the  systematic  nature  of  reality,  made  evident  by  the 
actual  constructive  work  of  mind,  whose  connexions  are 
necessary. 

The  post-Kantian  movement,  as  we  saw,  was  in  its  origin 
humanitarian,  revolutionary,  aesthetic,  socio-political,  as 
well  as  directly  and  concretely  metaphysical.  Besides  its 
basis  in  Kant,  it  owed  much  to  Rousseau,  much  to  the 
reviving  interest  in  Greek  art,  politics,  and  culture,  very 
much  to  the  joint  inspiration  of  Schiller  and  Goethe  trace¬ 
able  to  Winekelmann.  It  was  strong,  by  the  common 
consent  even  of  a  later  day,  in  the  sciences  of  humanity, 
in  the  theory  of  history  and  in  the  history  of  philosophy, 
in  social  ethics,  in  aesthetic,  in  the  theory  of  religion.  Its 
metaphysical  logic,  though  furiously  attacked  by  a  later 
generation,  at  least  aimed  at  being  a  system  of  the  laws  of 
reality,  and  in  no  way  took  the  side  of  “psychologism,’' 
i.e.  of  identifying  logical  truth  with  mental  occurrence. 

Its  weakest  point,  perhaps  the  main  cause  of  what  is  held 
to  be  its  downfall,  was  its  philosophy  of  nature.  Sclielling 
and  Hegel  would  have  done  better  for  their  reputation 
with  the  world  if  they  had  never  touched  this  subject  at 
all ;  and  Hegel  in  particular  if  he  had  never  mentioned  the 
name  of  Newton. 

But  their  own  reputation  was  not  Schelling’s  or  Hegel’s 
concern.  What  they  suffered  from,  and  suffered  for,  was 
not  a  defect  but  an  excess  of  interest  in  nature  and  science 
at  a  moment  of  singular  excitement  and  suggestiveness  in 
the  scientific  world.  They  incurred  great  perils;  and 
they  often  tripped  and  fell.  Their  generation  of  naturalists 
was  pregnant  with  the  theory  of  evolution;  Buffon  and 


197 


The  History  of  Philosophy 

Goethe,10  Erasmus  Darwin,  Treviranus,  and  Lamarck 
were  on  tlie  track.  Perhaps  no  philosopher  with  a  passion 
for  cosmic  unity  could  at  that  crisis  have  kept  his  hands 
oh  the  subject.  The  philosophers  did  not  anticipate 
Darwin,  but  they  did  see  a  good  deal  of  the  unity  of 
nature.  Hegel  remarked,  for  instance,  that  it  could  hardly 
be  the  goal  of  chemistry  to  establish  forty  or  fifty  hetero¬ 
geneous  elements.11 

The  history  of  science  has  sharp  turnings,  followed  by 
long  lanes  without  much  turning.  A  student  who  comes 
just  before  the  turn,  is  soon  and  suddenly  superseded. 
One  vdio  finds  himself  half-wTay  along  a  lane  inherits  ideas 
which  endure  longer.  We  think  ourselves  in  a  long  lane 
to-day,  and  we  feel  superior  to  those  who  were  just  before 
the  turning.  And  yet  in  a  hundred  years  some  of  our 
glimpses  into  nature  may  look  as  quaint  as  Hegel’s.  I  do 
not  doubt  that  his  eagerness  often  led  him  to  speak 
inadvisedly.  But  I  hold  that  the  philosopher  is  in  the 
right  to  inform  himself  as  he  best  can,  and  then  to  take 
his  chances.  A  glimpse  or  two  of  truth  matters  much 
more  than  keeping  oneself  unspotted  from  mistakes. 

However,  to  recur  to  the  rhythm  we  are  pursuing,  the 
point  is  that  the  forward,  objective,  aggressive  or  adven¬ 
turous  interpretation  of  Kant’s  central  unity  came  first 
in  historical  time — before  the  retiring,  subjective,  and,  so 
to  speak,  defensive  interpretation.  The  fact  seems  to  me 
historically  remarkable,  and  I  do  not  know  that  it  was 
inevitable  apart  from  historical  and  cultural  influences. 
The  first  phase,  indeed,  might  call  itself  critical,  if 
criticism  means  reading  all  factors  of  experience  in  the 
light  of  the  whole.  But  it  repudiated  the  critical  attitude, 

10.  Wallace,  op.  cit.,  152. 

11.  Encycl.,  sect.  334.  Cf.  Riehl,  Science  and  Metaphysic,  E.  Tr.  110, 
“  The  advances  in  chemistry  have  by  no  means  decreased  the  number  of 
elements,  as  the  systematic  impulse  of  pure  thought  demands,  but  have 
increased  it.”  I  take  it,  as  things  stand  to-day,  Hegel  in  1807  has  the 
better  of  his  critic  in  1887. 


198  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


if  criticism  meant  the  evaluation  of  a  system,  prima  facie 
subjective,  in  terms  of  its  power  to  reveal  reality  and 
truth.  And  this  is  on  the  whole  the  attitude  of  the  second 
phase,  which  we  now  have  to  consider.  It  begins  with  the 
anti-metaphysical  theory  of  knowledge.  But  we  shall  see 
that  it  leads  to  a  third  phase,  in  which  a  rather  different 
relation  to  metaphysic  appears  at  least  to  suggest  itself. 

2.  It  is  impossible  here  to  depict  the  historical  and 
cultural  situation  in  which  the  post-Kantian  idealism 
together  with  the  romantic  movement  lost  its  power. 
Great  scholars  have  connected  it  both  with  the  revolution 
of  1830,  and  with  that  of  1848. 12  Between  these  dates,  and 
for  some  time  after  them,  a  materialism  and  materialistic 
social  economics,  which  sprang  in  part  out  of  the  Hegelian 
movement  itself,  were  superseding  idealism ;  the  natural 
sciences  and  Comtism  w'ere  a  rising  force  in  Europe ;  and 
the  pessimism  and  voluntarism  of  Schopenhauer,  a  genius 
of  the  post-Kantian  type,  though  but  now  coming  into  his 
own,  were  impregnating  general  European  culture  with 
the  influence,  which,  surviving  in  Nietzsche,  was  to  be 
potent  in  the  later  half  of  the  century. 

The  writings  of  Mill,  Bain  and  Spencer  had  a  curious 
influence  in  Germany.13  They  were  not,  I  believe,  accepted 

12.  Wallace,  Life  of  Schopenhauer,  p.  190.  Albert  Lange,  History  oj 
Materialism  (E.  Tr.),  ii.  245  ft  The  circular  rescript  from  the  Ministry 
of  Education  of  21st  August,  1824,  warning  the  academic  youth  against 
sham  philosophy  ( i.e .  non-Hegelian  philosophy),  compares  amusingly 
with  Hegel’s  letter  above  cited.  Lange,  l.c.n. 

13.  These  writers  are  referred  to  at  length  in  Lange’s  History  of 
Materialism  (1873)  and  Mill  and  Spencer  are  treated  as  examples  of 
vicious  “Psychologism”  in  Husserl’s  Logische  Untersuchungen  (ed.  2, 
1913),  p.  78  ff.  Husserl’s  criticism  of  Mill’s  psychologism  seems  to  me 
thoroughly  just.  But  there  is  one  small  point  of  terminology  on  which 
I  think  it  probable  that  there  is  a  misunderstanding.  When  Mill  calls 
Logic  a  “  Philosophy  ”  or  “  Theory  of  Evidence,”  he  means  a  theory  of 
proof,  not  a  theory  of  “self-evidence”  or  of  the  quality  of 
being  “  evident,”  which  I  take  to  be  the  meaning  of  the  German  word 
“  Evidenz.”  “Evidence”  for  us  means  facts  or  testimony  alleged  in 


The  History  of  Philosophy 


199 


as  profound  by  thinkers  of  repute;  but  they  were,  as, 
somewhat  to  our  surprise,  they  remain  even  to-day,  a 
convenient  text  for  criticism,  and  filled  men’s  minds  with 
the  idea  of  an  inductive,  phenomenal  and  psychological 
philosophy. 

It  was  under  influences  like  these  that  in  1865  Otto 
Liebmann  14  published  his  tract  entitled,  “  Kant  und  die 
Epigonen,”  the  sections  of  which,  dealing  in  succession 
with  Fichte,  Schelling,  Hegel,  Herbart,  Fries,  and 
Schopenhauer,  ended  severally  with  Liebmann’s  watch¬ 
word,  “  We  must  go  back  to  Kant.”  The  test  he  applied 
to  all  these  thinkers  was  the  problem  of  the  thing-in-itself,15 
the  removal  of  which,  as  an  inconsistency  in  Kant’s 
philosophy  and  a  mere  excrescence  upon  it,  appeared  to 
him  essential  to  a  true  appreciation  of  the  system.  He 
held  that  all  these  philosophers  had  in  some  way  com¬ 
promised  with  the  accursed  thing ;  Herbart  being  so  far  at 
one  with  Hegel  that  even  in  his  pluralist  system  of  “reals” 

support  of  a  proposition.  And  Mill  means  by  the  “  Theory  of 
Evidence”  or  “larger  Logic,”  ( Examination  of  Sir  W.  Hamilton,  457, 
461)  practically  his  theory  of  Induction  as  opposed  to 
Formal  Logic.  If,  as  I  imagine,  the  word  “Evidence”  on  p.  181, 
Husserl  op.  cit.,  is  taken  in  the  same  sense  as  “  Evidenz  ”  on  p.  189, 
then  I  incline  to  think  that  in  this  trifling  particular  Mill  isi  misunder¬ 
stood.  Partly  because  of  the  difference  of  usage  I  have  referred  to, 
“  Evidenz  ”  is  a  very  difficult  term  for  an  Englishman  to  understand.  1 
should  think  the  best  rendering  is  “self-evidence.”  In  Mill’s  controversy 
with  Whewell,  he  develops  a  non-psychological  theory  of  evidence  in 
his  sense  of  the  word,  which  seems  in  the  main  sound.  See  my  Logic, 
ii,  226-9. 

14.  “  Otto  Liebmann,”  Kant  u.  die  Epigonen,  1865,  “  zur  Analysis 
der  Wirklichheit,”  1876.  His  attack  on  Hegel’s  handling  of  mathe¬ 
matics  is  in  the  later  work. 

15.  Kiilpe  in  Realisirung  (1912)  accepts,  as  I  understand,  the  Thing-in- 
itself.  “  Wir  halten  mit  dem  ein  Ding  an  Sich  und  seine  Beziehung  zur 
Erfahrung  anerkennenden  Kant,”  i.  251.  He  means,  I  gather,  something 
like  the  “  physical  object  ”  of  science.  Still,  the  comparison  of  his 
position  with  Liebmann’s  is  instructive  for  the  development  of  the 
reaction  into  its  sequel. 


200  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

(simple  underlying  qualities)  lie  had  set  up  a  transcendent 
something,  beyond  space  and  time.  The  only  way 
therefore  was  to  go  back  to  Kant  and  make  a  fresh  start. 

Liebmann  treated  it  as  a  paralogism  even  to  argue  that 
our  world  in  space  and  time  is  phenomenal.  It  is 
conditioned,  he  would  allow,  but  self-conditioned;  not 
conditioned  ah  extra;  and  he  denied  Herbart’s  prin¬ 
ciple,  “So  viel  Schein,  so  viel  Iiindeutung  auf  Sein.”  So 
far  as  I  can  see,  his  successors  did  not  imitate  his 
thoroughness,  but  admitted  for  the  most  part  that  our 
world  is  phenomenal  of  the  unknown. 

He  anticipated,  however,  a  very  important  feature  in 
later  philosophy,  by  insisting  on  the  philosophical  value  of 
mathematics ;  and  his  special  hostility  to  Hegel  was 
expressed  in  a  contemptuous  criticism  of  the  Natur- 
philosophie  directed  to  this  point. 

Here,  then,  as  Liebmann  clearly  proclaimed,  the  critical 
philosophy  falls  back  into  a  criticism  of  knowledge.  It 
limits  itself  to  what  is  given  in  consciousness  and  occupies 
itself  on  this  basis  with  examining  the  range  of  our 
cognition  and  the  limits  of  our  intelligence,  much  like 
Locke. 

Thus,  in  the  general  neo-Kantian  position,  we  have  the 
contradictory  opposite  of  the  post-Kantian  reading  of 
Kant.  That  was  a  metaphysic;  this  is  an  epistemology. 
And  Epistemology,  Theory  of  Cognition,  Criticism  of  Know¬ 
ledge,  remain,  I  think,  on  the  whole  the  attitude  of  the 
most  progressive  German  thought  from  that  day  to  this. 
There  is,  indeed,  a  later  change  in  its  focus,  which  will 
justify  the  distinction  I  have  indicated  between  the  second 
and  third  phases  of  the  intellectual  rhythm  which  we  are 
studying.  But  the  neo-Kantian  mode  of  approach  seems  to 
me  to  characterise  on  the  whole  both  the  second  phase 
which  we  are  describing,  and  the  third  which  we  shall 
indicate  below.  Criticism  has  returned  into  its  shell;  it 
takes  its  stand  on  the  given  in  consciousness;  and  con¬ 
siders  what  further,  if  anything,  you  can  elicit  from  that. 


The  History  of  Philosophy 


201 


At  once,  therefore,  there  re-appear  those  Kantian 
features  which  post-Ivantian  thought  had  more  especially 
repudiated;  the  unrealised  and  unrealisable  ideal  in  the 
mind,  the  ever  unattainable  “  ought,”  the  infinite  process 
of  approximation  to  moral  perfection.  In  Liebmann, 
Yaihinger,  Lange,  and  the  Marburg  school,  we  find  this 
view  maintained  with  extraordinary  skill  and  tenacity, 
and,  by  Yaihinger  in  particular,  attributed  with  an 
elaborate  array  of  evidence  from  posthumously  published 
works,  to  Kant  himself.  That  is  to  say,  for  example,  in 
the  Kantian  treatment  of  God,  Freedom  and  Immortality, 
we  are  not,  if  we  respect  the  spirit  of  Kant,  to  go  forward 
in  any  sense  or  manner  to  incorporate  or  include  these 
features  in  an  objective  theory  of  the  universe;  but  we  are 
to  regard  the  familiar  “  as  if  ”  with  which  Kant  conditions 
them  as  we  regard  a  conscious  working  fiction  in  any 
special  science,  say,  the  fiction  of  dealing  with  a  curve 
as  composed  of  very  short  straight  lines.  The  thing  is 
a  fiction  and  known  to  be  a  fiction;  it  is  received  purely 
for  its  value  as  a  practical  rule,  and  not  as  having  any 
relation  to  theoretical  truth.  The  “  as  if  ”  is  simply 
to  tell  you  in  what  way  you  are  to  act  if  you  wish  to 
follow  the  ideal  in  your  mind.  The  ideal  has  no 
objectivity  or  reality  of  any  kind,  except  that  it  arises  in 
your  consciousness  and  you  cannot  get  rid  of  it. 

This  view  of  the  ideal,  which  to  Hegel  seemed  self¬ 
contradictory  and  already  obsolete,  finds  of  course  a  strong 
support,  previously  undreamed  of,  from  all  those  modern 
views  which  point  to  an  unlimited  horizon  of  change  for 
the  future  of  our  universe,  and  to  a  practical  rather  than 
a  theoretical  function  for  knowledge.  The  tables  seem 
to  be  turned  on  the  post-Kantian  doctrine  when  absolutism 
is  treated  as  analogous  to  a  geocentric  hypothesis,16  and  the 

16.  For  this  comparison,  and  the  whole  defence  of  the  “  Sollen  ” 
against  Hegel,  see  especially  Natorp,  “  Kant  und  die  Marburger  Schule  ” 
(1912).  Yaihinger  interprets  the  “As  If”  with  extraordinary  ingenuity 


202  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

Kantian  ideal  is  likened  to  the  true  modern  conception  of 
a  freely  moving  planet.  The  unending  progress,  the 
fundamental  antithesis  of  the  real  and  the  ideal,  is  just 
what  these  views  seem  to  demand. 

A  remarkable  consequence  of  this  critical  attitude  in  the 
epistemological  sense  is  the  difficulty  of  distinguishing  the 
cognitive  theories,  whose  names  still  carry  some  philo¬ 
sophical  significance,  from  each  other.  “  Critical  ”  or 
“  Idealistic  Positivism,”  the  doctrine  of  Vailiinger  and 
I  presume  of  Mach  (c/.  the  title  “  Anti-metaphysical 
Prolegomena  ”  in  his  work  of  1886,  Analyse  der 
Empfindungen),  “  Critical  Realism,”  the  doctrine  of  Riehl, 
“  Critical  Idealism,”  the  ultimate  doctrine  of  Albert  Lange 
in  his  famous  history  of  Materialism — these  theories,  all 
alike  anti-metaphysical,  are  hardly  by  any  precise  philo¬ 
sophical  standard  distinguishable  from  each  other.17  In 
truth,  Critical  Realism  and  Critical  Idealism  at  this  time 
are  much  more  like  each  other,  than  each  of  them  is  to  its 

in  terms  of  the  “  Sollen.”  Fictions  are  for  him  a  mere  expression  of 
the  ideal,  with  no  objective  warrant,  yet  ineradicable.  Lange  takes  a 
similar  line.  It  is  really  the  moral  attitude  made  absolute. 

17.  See  Kiilpe  Realisirung ,  103.  Neither  the  earlier  critical  idealist 
nor  the  earlier  critical  realist  holds  together  the  entire  experienced  world 
as  the  reality.  This  is,  for  example,  Schuppe’s  complaint  against  the 
prevailing  critical  realism,  in  his  “  Bestatigung  der  na'iven  Realismus  ” 
(reprinted  in  Avenarius’  der  Menschliche  Weltbegriff).  Therefore,  as  one 
is  seldom  quite  certain  that  the  idealist  or  positivist  has  not  a  thing  in 
itself  in  the  background  (as  Vailiinger  clearly  has — an  unknowable  real), 
and  as  the  realist  of  Riehl’s  type  makes  his  reality  rather  like  a  thing  in 
itself  (for  you  cannot  get  at  it  with  any  completeness)  there  is  little 
to  choose  between  them  but  a  difference  of  emphasis ;  again,  however, 
when  you  come  to  compare,  say  Cassirer  and  Husserl  (Idealists)  with 
Kiilpe  (Realist)  you  find  in  both  groups  a  fairly  comprehensive  view  of 
organised  experience,  and  the  main  difference  is  merely  in  the  realist’s 
conviction  that  certain  objects  are  independent  of  mind.  I  do  not  see 
that  Kiilpe’s  conception  of  an  Inductive  metaphysic  has  necessarily  to 
do  with  Realism.  It  seems  to  me  clear,  however,  that  Induction  can 
only  operate  within  a  metaphysical  position. 


The  History  of  Philosophy 


203 


successor  of  the  same  name.  One  might  find  the  principal 
watchword  of  the  earlier  or  positivistic  attitude  in  the 
phrase  “pure  experience.’’  In  what  you  are  to  find  the  pure 
experience,  and  what  you  can  elicit  from  it,  are  points 
on  which  differences  may  exist.  But  that  what  you  have 
in  consciousness  unadulterated  by  beliefs  about  the 
beyond,  is  the  sole  trustworthy  datum,  appears  to  be  at 
starting  the  universal  critical  postulate.  At  starting, 
because  it  modifies  itself  in  working  out. 

To  obtain  a  distinct  impression,  let  us  consider  in  this 
connection  the  ideas  of  Yaihinger,  than  whom,  I  suppose, 
there  is  no  more  competent  Kant-philologer.  His 
remarkable  book,  “  The  Philosophy  of  the  As  If  ”  was 
written,  as  we  all  know,  in  1876-7,  but  partly  because  the 
ideas  of  the  day  were  not  ripe  for  it,  was  not  published 
till  1911.  Thus  it  embraces  a  long  period  of  time;  we 
have  in  it  the  author’s  views  of  1877,  copiously  confirmed 
and  illustrated  by  ideas  of  the  80's  and  90’s,  including, 
as  he  points  out,  Voluntarism,  the  biological  theory  of 
cognition  as  an  adaptation  subserving  economy  of 
thought,  Nietzsche’s  recognition  of  the  value  of  fictions, 
and  Pragmatism  in  its  more  critical  aspect  as  a  protest 
against  one-sided  intellectualism.  In  view  of  all  these 
influences,  we  may  summarise  Vaihinger’s  neo-Kantianism 
as  follows. 

Nothing  in  our  experience  is  real  but  sensations  in  their 
successions  and  co-existences.  Possible  sensations  are  in¬ 
cluded.  All  the  constructive  elements  of  our  world,  the 
Categories,  Number  and  mathematical  ideas  in  general, 
Things,  Subject  and  Object,  and  indeed  our  experience  as 
an  organised  world,  are  without  exception  Fictions.  By 
“  fictions,”  however,  he  does  not  mean  mistakes  or 
illusions ;  and  here  he  believes  himself  to  have  a  new  point 
of  view,  that  of  the  high  value  of  fictions.  A  fiction  is  a 
working  rule,  contrived  consciously  or  unconsciously  as  a 
guide  or  facilitation  to  action,  that  is,  to  procuring  sensa¬ 
tions.  It  is  expressed  through  an  analogy,  an  “  as  if.” 
And  the  whole  world,  as  it  is  in  our  ideas,  is  an  instrument 


204  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


contrived  for  this  purpose,  and  makes  no  pretence  to  be 
a  copy  of  reality,  though  it  is  a  means  by  which  we  adapt 
our  action  to  the  real,  a  real  in  its  own  character  unknown. 
The  whole  world,  as  it  is  in  our  ideas,  lies  between  the 
afferent  and  the  efferent  nerve  (compare  Bergson),  and  its 
office  is  simply  to  make  the  communication  between  them 
more  adequate.  Science  indeed  does  at  times  make  the 
intellectual  constructions  thus  arising  an  end  in  them¬ 
selves  ;  then  they  become  a  luxury  and  a  passion ;  “  and  all 
that  is  noble  in  man  has  an  origin  like  this.”  18 

Thus  it  is  a  fundamental  error  to  treat  knowledge  as  if 
it  aimed  at  copying  the  real  world.  The  world  as  it  is 
in  our  ideas  is  itself  a  cosmic  product,  generated  by  the 
instinct  of  the  psyche  through  analogous  apperception,  to 
facilitate  practice.  Real  being  is  unknowable,  not 
because  it  is  above  our  understanding,  but  because  it  is 
below  it.  The  world  of  our  experience  is  a  product  of 
the  real  world;  it  cannot  possibly  be  a  copy  of  it.  It  is, 
Yaihinger  seems  to  imply,  a  higher  phase  of  it. 

This  conception,  and  the  conception  of  the  high  value  of 
fictions,  which  at  the  same  time  are  always  self-contra¬ 
dictory,  might  lend  themselves  to  quite  other  philosophical 
theories.  The  main  idea  of  sensational  reality  we  need 
not  criticise;  but  these  accessory  interpretations  breathe 
new  life  into  it.  Our  world,  it  would  almost  seem,  is  an 
improvement  on  the  “  real  ”  world.  Thus  when  the  idea 
of  fiction  is  applied  to  mathematics  as  a  whole,  its  implica¬ 
tion  of  a  purposive  construction  possessing  supreme  value 
for  the  ordering  of  reality  does  much  to  remove  what 
is  prima  facie  a  fundamental  contradiction  between 
Yaihinger  and  thinkers  within  the  same  movement,  for 
whom  mathematics  is  the  clue  to  all  knowledge. 

Onlv,  it  does  still  seem  as  if  for  him  a  fiction  has  its 
value  in  its  fictitiousness.  And  so  it  has,  no  doubt,  but 
only  as  a  short  cut  has  its  value  in  its  shortness.  After 

18.  Vaihinger’s  Philosophie  des  Als  Ob,  p.  95. 


The  History  of  Philosophy 


205 


all,  it  must  be  between  the  right  places,  and  that  is 
determined  by  its  relation  to  reality. 

Now  I  cannot  see  that  the  situation  is  changed  in 
principle  so  long  as  the  epistemological  point  of  view 
is  retained,  along  with  the  assumption  that  our 
world  of  perception  is  phenomenal.  The  emphasis  may 
be  changed  from  the  sensations  in  combination  and 
succession  to  the  formulae  of  the  succession  and  combina¬ 
tion  of  the  sensations,  so  that  in  effect  a  recognition  of  a 
systematic  world  may  appear  writhin  the  phenomenal 
course  or  may  be  employed  in  an  inference  beyond  it. 
But  until  pure  experience  is  interpreted  from  a  less 
psychical  standpoint,  the  conception  of  a  real  world  cannot 
be  genuinely  entertained. 

Thus  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  Mach  and  Riehl,  for 
instance,  are  fixed  in  the  former  attitude,  so  that  critical 
realism  and  critical  monism,  the  doctrines  of  Riehl, — 
“  critical  ”  as  a  prefix  means,  I  think,  in  this  period  “  anti- 
metaphysical  ” — do  not  effectively  go  beyond  the  positivism 
of  Mach.  On  the  other  hand,  a  relatively  new  attitude 
appears  to  me  to  begin  with  Richard  Avenarius. 

3.  Here,  then,  with  Avenarius’  Kritik  der  Reinen 
Erfahrung  (1888)  and  his  “der  Menschliche  Weltbegriff,” 
(1891),  I  venture  to  see  the  beginning  of  the  third  phase  of 
the  rhythm  wTe  have  been  tracing.19  Of  course  these  assign¬ 
ments  of  place  and  time,  in  the  vast  co-operation  of 
students  to  which  I  referred  at  starting,  are  not  much  more 
than  symbolic.  One  can  say  that  the  features  I  speak  of 
were  apparent  here ;  one  can  hardly  say  that  they  were  not 

19.  Cf.  Kiilpe’s  Realisirung,  p.  114  (referring  to  the  80’s  of  last 
century),  “  Seitdem  hat  sich  unsere  Stellung  zur  vorgefunden  Wirklich- 
keit  immerhin  merklich  geandert  ”  [Wirklichkeit  =  what  is  actual  in 
consciousness],  “  Wir  sind  wieder  im  Begriff,  uns  ein  ideales  Reich  zu 
erschliessen,  ein  Reich  das  nicht  von  dieser  Welt  des  Bewusstseins  ist.” 
“  Metaphysik  ist  kein  verachtlicher  Schlagwort  mehr.”  The  “  ideales 
Reich  ”  is,  I  take  it,  the  realm  of  things  as  known  to  science  [“  real  ”  as 
opposed  to  “  wirklich  ”]. 


206  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


previously  apparent  at  all  elsewhere.  The  Marburg  school, 
for  instance,  to  which  I  shall  refer  below,  had  already 
been  at  work  from  the  earliest  neo-Kantian  period. 

In  any  case,  what  I  seem  to  observe  at  least  from  this 
point  onwards,  is  a  systematic  and  logical  crystallisation, 
a  solidifying  or  architectonic  tendency,  so  to  speak,  within 
the  critical  and  epistemological  position.  The  anti-meta¬ 
physical  attitude  lingers  on,  but  tends  to  pass  into  an 
attitude  rather  'preliminary  than  hostile  to  metaphysic. 
Cognisance  is  taken  of  the  distinction  between  what  is 
given  in  consciousness  and  what  is  given  to  consciousness. 
Mathematics  asserts  itself  as  a  great  fountain  of  neces¬ 
sary  construction  and  non-psychical  truth.  Logic  and 
essential  necessity  recover  their  value  in  contrast  with 
psychological  fact.  For  all  these  things  precedent  can  be 
found  in  Kant,  Herbart,  and  Lange,20  and  considering  our 
pregnant  interpretation  of  the  significance  of  fiction,  even 
in  Yaihinger,  who  may  seem  most  opposed  to  them.  To 
gain,  once  more,  a  vivid  impression,  let  us  look,  in  the 
first  instance,  at  the  essential  position  of  Avenarius. 

Avenarius’  watchword  is  still  pure  experience ;  pure 
experience  means  for  him  what  comes  from  our  surround¬ 
ings  ;  and  it  is  the  destiny  of  all  ideas  which  are  not  pure 
experience  to  vanish  like  primitive  animism  from  human 
thought,  and  make  way  for  what  is.  That  is  the  side  of 
the  epistemological  tradition  which  he  retains. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  two  things  are  noticeable. 
His  pure  experience  is  always  a  system  in  itself,  implying 
a  central  term  and  its  surroundings  or  counterparts. 
Without  a  co-ordination  of  this  kind  there  is  no  experience. 
And  the  experience  is  not  psychical  more  than  physical. 
The  assumption  that  we  begin  from  something  psychical, 
inward,  ideal,  and  build  up  the  physical  world  out  of  or  on 
the  basis  of  this,  is  for  him  a  fallacy  with  a  perfectly 
definite  origin — the  fallacy  of  Introjection.  Introjection, 

20.  Cf.  Husserl,  Logische  Untersuchungen,  1913,  i.  213  ff,  224  ff. 


The  History  of  Philosophy 


207 


as  I  understand  it,  is  simply  the  familiar  tendency  of  each 
of  us  to  say  to  his  neighbour,  “  1  am  dealing  with  per¬ 
ceptible  facts;  you  are  dealing  with  your  inward  impres¬ 
sions.”  Then,  on  reflection,  we  transfer  to  ourselves  what 
we  have  affirmed  about  our  neighbours,  and  the  thing  is 
done.  We  are  no  longer  a  central  term  in  a  world  of 
counterparts — a  necessary  element  in  a  world  inseparable 
from  us,  but  we  have  become  a  sort  of  vessel  containing 
airy  and  unreal  images,  out  of  which  we  ineffectually 
struggle  to  elicit  a  physical  reality  beyond  them. 

All  this,  according  to  him,  is  sophistical  and  super¬ 
fluous.  Experience  is  what  it  is,  an  actual  system  of 
counterparts,  all  of  which,  ultimately  and  in  principle, 
have  the  power  of  being  central  members,  what  we  should 
call  percipients,  in  a  complex  of  such  counterparts.  To 
go  behind  this  arrangement,  and  ask  what  any  term  w^ould 
be  “  in  and  for  itself  ”  is  self-contradictory.  You  must 
not  answer,  “  The  cinnabar  in  itself  is  neither  red  or 
black”;  nor  must  you  answer,  “We  do  not  know  what 
colour  it  is  in  itself.”  In  either  answer  you  assume  some¬ 
thing  unthinkable,  viz.,  a  term  which  is  not  a  counterpart 
in  the  system  of  pure  experience. 

Thus  it  is  worth  observing  that  in  the  latter  part  of  his 
Weltbegriff  he  substitutes  for  the  term  “  pure  experience  ” 
the  term  “  full  experience,”  meaning  by  the  latter  an 
experience  in  which  none  of  its  inseparable  conditions — 
e.g.  the  presence  of  the  human  body  and  its  surroundings, 
are  overlooked.  Hence  in  his  philosophy  both  the 
psychical  and  the  abstract  nature  which  we  have  seen 
ascribed  to  the  real  experience  disappear;  and  Psychology, 
in  his  view,  is  not  merely  Psychology  without  a  soul, 
which  had  been  a  familiar  idea  since  Albert  Lange,  but 
Psychology  without  a  distinction  between  the  physical  and 
the  psychical.  The  object  of  Psychology  is  any  experi¬ 
ence  regarded  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  individual 
whose  “  statement  ”  it  is.  The  ego  has  more  things  in  it 
than  a  tree  has,  and  that  is  all.  Of  course  in  all  this  we 


208  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


have  only  the  substitution  of  function  for  substance  which 
may  be  traced  back  to  Lotze,  Hegel  and  Kant,  and  which 
in  a  highly  explicit  form  gives  the  title  to  a  considerable 
work  of  Cassirer,  “  Substanz-B e griff  und  F unctions- 
begriffF  Its  point  for  us  here  is  in  the  democratic 
equality,  so  to  speak,  which  it  is  used  to  introduce  into 
the  world  of  experience,  giving  the  idea  of  mind  as 
constituted  by  the  world,  no  less  than  the  world,  in  Kantian 
or  post-Kantian  phrase,  as  constituted  by  mind.  We 
feel  ourselves  getting  back  to  a  solid  system  of  things, 
which  yet  is  free  from  the  implications  of  the  Thing  in 
itself.  It  is  to  be  noted  as  essential  to  this  position 
that  a  given  constituent  can  be  constituent  of  the  surround¬ 
ings  of  more  than  one  person.  We  have  therefore  a 
genuinely  unitary  world. 

This  “  empirio-criticism,”  as  Avenarius  called  it, 
which  he  took  to  be  one  with  man’s  natural  idea  of  the 
world,  we  may  set  down,  I  presume,  with  Schuppe,  as 
meant  to  be  a  naive  Realism.  Schuppe  complains  that  he 
himself  wanted  to  be  a  naive  Realist,  but  everyone  would 
set  him  down  as  a  subjective  Idealist. 

But  we  find  no  less  of  what  we  are  looking  fbr  in 
Cassirer’s  fascinating  work,  to  which  I  have  just  referred, 
although  his  explicit  position  is  that  of  “  Critical 
Idealism.”  It  illustrates  the  force  of  the  anti-meta- 
physical  tradition  that  lie  yrima  facie  identifies  the 
“  metaphysical  ”  attitude  with  that  of  transcendental 
realism — with  the  old  attitude  of  the  salto  mortale  from 
subjective  data  to  transcendent  being,  which  we  on  our  part 
have  rather  held  that  epistemology  implies  and  true  meta¬ 
physic  repudiates.  And  yet,  in  his  own  doctrine,  we  find 
the  greater  part  of  what  a  genuine  metaphysic  would 
demand.  The  preface  indeed  shows  him  to  be  aware  that 
he  is  handling  metaphysical  questions.  The  novelty  and 
interest  of  his  position  is,  that  in  harmony  with  the  neo- 
Kantian  tradition,  and  especially  that  of  the  Marburg  school 
to  which  he  belongs,  it  is  mathematics  which  furnishes  him 


209 


The  History  of  Philosophy 

with  the  ideas,  which  come  to  the  post-Kantian  rather  from 
the  organic  universal.  For  him  as  for  all  Hegelian  logic,  the 
enemy  is  the  method  of  forming  universals  by  abstraction, 
with  the  view  of  retaining  impoverished  sensuous  elements 
as  a  generalised  picture  or  copy  of  the  real  world,  with  the 
old  result  expressed  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  intension  and 
extension.  And  the  method  which  he  opposes  to  this  is 
the  further  determination  of  sensuous  data  by  mathe¬ 
matical  formulation  of  their  conditions,  such  that  not 
general  resemblances  but  necessary  connections  of  differ¬ 
ences,  in  series  and  complexes  of  series  according  to  law, 
give  the  true  relation  of  universal  and  individual;  with 
the  result  that  intension  and  extension  increase  pari  passu , 
because  increased  intension  means  more  complex  articula¬ 
tion  and  a  wider  nexus  of  terms. 

Thus  he  again,  like  Yaihinger,  starts  from  the  funda¬ 
mental  principle  that  not  copying,  but  construction 
according  to  law,  is  what  is  aimed  at  in  knowledge.  And 
his  identification  of  reality  with  the  comprehensive  deter¬ 
mination  of  the  datum  through  the  precise  articulation 
which  locates  it  in  the  whole  system,  shows  us,  surely,  the 
criticism  of  knowledge  expanding  into  the  realm  of  meta¬ 
physic,  and  often  seems  to  repeat  almost  literally  the 
contentions 21  of  a  philosophy  whose  inspiration  is  of 
organic  and  post-Kantian  origin. 

It  is  also  noteworthy  that  while  quite  free  from  any 
tendency  to  reduce  logical  and  metaphysical  necessity  to 
psychological  fact,  Cassirer  rejects  (so  I  understand  him) 
the  extreme  view  of  Mr.  Kussell,  that  the  conception  of 
mind  is  wholly  irrelevant  to  that  of  logical  and  mathe- 

21.  Cf.  e.g.  T.  H.  Green,  Works,  ii,  288.  “From  the  connection  of 
any  set  of  phenomena  as  merely  resembling,  no  science  results ;  once 
connect  them  as  constituents  of  a  quantity,  and  we  have  the  beginnings 
of  science.”  The  conception  of  a  universal  as  constituted  not  by 
resemblances  but  by  a  system  of  differences  came  to  earlier  philosophy, 
e.g.  to  Plato  and  Hegel,  from  the  idea  of  an  organism,  as  to  Cassirer 
from  mathematics. 


N 


210  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


matical  truth  and  necessity.  Spontaneity  of  thought, 
as  I  gather  from  Cassirer,  is  correlative  to  objectivity, 
and  the  separation  between  ideal  truth  and  real  existence, 
though  important,  cannot  be  ultimate. 

In  all  this,  I  submit,  the  criticism  of  knowledge,  which 
shrank  into  its  shell  in  the  second  phase  of  the  century’s 
thought,  is  beginning  to  organise  and  solidify  itself,  and 
to  expand  into  a  true  immanent  metaphysic — a  metaphysic 
which  treats  experience  as  ab  initio  and  in  principle  in 
touch  with  reality. 

And  we  may  note  the  same  tendency  in  the  important 
theory  of  act,  content,  and  object  which  a  number 
of  thinkers,  mostly  but  not  solely  German,  have  developed 
in  detail  during  the  later  years  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
The  distinction  between  what  is  given  in  consciousness  and 
what  is  given  to  it  is  of  course  not  new,22  but  as  worked 
out  in  detail  it  makes  impossible  a  set  of  misapprehensions 
which  have  been  a  serious  hindrance  in  the  way  of  a 

.  To  say  that  the  world 
is  my  idea,  if  that  means  a  sheer  psychical  state  of  my 
consciousness,  or  an  adjective  of  myself,  should  hence¬ 
forward  be  impossible. 

Again,  developing  out  of  descriptive  psychology,  though 
not  identical  with  it,  we  now  have  a  methodic  treatment 
of  essential  distinctions  and  connections  given  within 
existent  experience  itself,  of  which  essential  truths  an 
elementary  type  is  proffered  in  such  a  proposition  as  that  a 
sound  is  not  a  colour,  or  that  a  spatial  object,  so  long  as 
it  remains  a  spatial  object,  can  only  be  perceived  through 
a  variety  ad  infinitum  of  gradations  and  nuances, 

22.  Cf.  Bradley,  A'p'pearance  and  Reality,  301.  On  “  Akt,”  “  Inhalt,” 
and  “Gegenstand,”  with  special  reference  to  Meinong,  compare  Stout, 
Some  Fundamental  Points  in  the  Theory  of  Knowledge,  Glasgow,  1911. 
See,  however,  Husserl,  Jahrbuch,  1913,  i,  267-  Natorp  (Kant.  u.  d.  Mar- 
burger  Schule,  p.  16)  contends  that  “Inhalt”  and  “Gegenstand”  are 
relative,  so  that  what  was  “Gegenstand”  can  become  “Inhalt”  towards 
a  further  “Gegenstand.”  This  seems  to  me  important. 


reasonable  treatment  of  reality 


The  History  of  Philosophy  211 

depending  on  the  spectator’s  point  of  view.  No  God  could 
make  it  perceptible  otherwise.23  Or  again,  a  precise  relation 
is  determined  between  the  “phyS4Cal  thing”24  and  the  thing 
of  sense-perception — answering  the  question  whether  or 
no  they  are  in  the  same  world;  and  this  is  a  matter  of 
great  importance  for  the  starting  point  of  metaphysic. 

Truth  of  this  kind,  a  'priori  truth,  may  be  obtained,  as 
I  read  the  theory,  from  the  careful  scrutiny  of  actual  or 
vital  experience  (Erlebniss)  in  a  way  in  which  its  psychical 
occurrence  is  not  concerned,  and  by  which  the  connections 
and  distinctions  which  its  nature  presents  can  be  appre¬ 
hended  as  essential  characters  a  priori  of  that  nature. 
I  suppose  (it  is  my  own  example)  that  harmonic  relations 
between  musical  sounds  are  in  this  sense  essential  and 
a  priori.  It  does  not  matter  whether  you  hear  them  or 
imagine  them  or  how  you  get  at  the  contemplation  of 
them.  To  the  musically  competent  mind  the  relations 
are  essential  (as  the  formal  sestheticians  said)  and  cannot 
be  otherwise  while  the  complex  is  ideally  the  same.  Such 
a  region  of  apriorism,  independent  of  psychological  occur¬ 
rence,  but  also  unembarrassed  by  any  affirmation  of  meta¬ 
physical  reality  or  transcendence,  is,  as  I  understand, 
what  Husserl  calls  Phenomenology. 

The  vehemence  with  which  here,  as  we  observed  also  in 
Cassirer,  “  metaphysical  postulates  ”  25  or  “  philosophical 

23.  Husserl,  Jahrbuch,  i.  81. 

24.  “  The  'physical  thing.”  Exact  physical  determinations  do  not  fall 
within  experience  proper.  But  the  perceived  thing  itself  is  always  and 
essentially  the  precise  thing  which  the  physicist  determines.  “  Even 
the  higher  transcendence  of  the  physical  thing  indicates  no  reaching  out 
beyond  the  world  which  is  for  consciousness, ”i'6.,  99-100.  This  conten¬ 
tion  is  directed  against  “the  realism  which  is  so  prevalent”  (p.  97), 
“  which  takes  the  actually  perceived  as  phenomenal  of  a  wholly  unknown 
reality.”  This  would  hardly  apply  in  full,  e.g.  to  Kiilpe’s  Realism. 
But  it  would  apply  to  Vaihinger’s  Idealism,  see  above,  p.  202,  on  the 
difficulty  of  discriminating  these  attitudes.  Husserl’s  view  indicates  a 
desirable  completeness  of  treatment. 

25.  76.,  106-7. 


212  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


argument  from  above,”  are  repudiated,  is  exceedingly 
remarkable  to  tbe  student  of  the  method.  Necessity 
is  ascribed  to  intuition,  not  in  any  mysterious  sense,  but 
simply  as  looking  carefully  at  a  complex,  and  “  seeing  ” 
what  it  inevitably  implies.  And,  as  I  gather,  such  an 
“  intuition,”  however  sound  under  its  conditions,  may  have 
to  be  reconsidered  or  amended  26  through  conflict  with  a 
no  less  sound  intuition  based  on  a  different  complex.  One 
might  almost  suggest  that  we  have  here  the  principle  that 
“the  truth  is  the  whole”  applied  to  every  relative  totality, 
but  so  far  only  as  that  particular  whole  or  complex  will 
carry  us.  So  understood,  it  would  be  a  strikingly 
suggestive  account  of  ayriorism. 

I  said  near  tJie  beginning  of  this  lecture  that  to  the 
unbiassed  modern  reader  of  Fichte  and  Hegel  the  differ¬ 
ence  of  method  between  them  and  the  modern  leaders 
of  German  thought  is  not  so  great  as  might  be  supposed. 
And  also  I  am  compelled  to  think  that  the  term  “  meta¬ 
physic,”  disparagingly  employed  by  these  distinguished 
moderns,  is  encumbered  with  a  merely  traditional  refer¬ 
ence  to  the  metaphysic  which  Kant  criticised  in  the  special 
light  in  which  he  criticised  it.  Their  usage  does  not  seem 
to  me  to  imply  reluctance  to  deal  with  questions  which  are 
really  metaphysical,  or  at  least  to  prepare  for  dealing  with 
them.  When  we  speak  of  a  priori  truth,  even  of  an  ideal 
type,  of  the  difference  between  ideal  and  real  science,  of  a 
system  of  reality  whether  immanent  or  transcendent,  it 
seems  to  me  that  we  are  beyond  what  in  strict  method 
should  belong  to  epistemology  (though  some  would  say 
that  if  you  leave  to  epistemology  only  what  is  its  own,  you 
leave  it  nothing  at  all),  and  we  are  already  well  in  the 
realm  of  metaphysic.  Nevertheless  the  critical  attitude — 
the  attitude  of  anticipatory  theory — is  persistent,  so  far  as 
I  can  see,  in  the  very  best  thought  of  the  last  fifteen 
years  in  Germany.  It  almost  seems  as  if  what  we  called 


26.  lb.,  36-7,  43-4. 


213 


The  History  of  Philosophy 

the  first  phase  of  the  century’s  rhythm  had  left  behind  it  a 
timidity — the  burnt  child  dreads  the  fire — which  is  not  in 
itself  altogether  logically  justified. 

There  are  further  examples  in  support  of  such  a  sugges¬ 
tion.  So  eminent  a  biologist  and  logician  as  Driesch, 
intending,  as  I  understand,  to  pave  the  way  for  a  meta- 
physic,  feels  bound  to  start  from  a  solipsistic  position.27 
No  less  a  thinker  than  Ehilpe,  again,  in  promising  an 
account  of  the  scientific  affirmation  of  reality,  appears  to 
advance  the  conception  of  an  “  inductive  metaphysic.”  28 
And  a  question  of  principle  might  be  raised,  whether,  if 
you  start  from  solipsism  or  from  induction  (in  any 
genuinely  distinctive  sense,  such  as  verification  of  sugges¬ 
tions  by  sensuous  experience)  you  can  ever  get  to  Meta¬ 
physic  at  all. 

Even  the  latest  utterance  of  the  Marburg  school,29  which 
in  plain  words  avows  a  certain  affinity  to  Hegel  in  the 
total  determination  of  all  experience  by  thought  as  con¬ 
trasted  with  the  recognition  of  any  given  factor,  such  as 
sensation — even  this  declaration  adheres  tenaciously  to  the 
line  of  construction  and  progress  ad  infinitum  which  the 
school’s  mathematical  preoccupation  suggests.  So  that, 

27.  Driesch.  Ordnungslehre,  p.  4. 

28.  Kiilpe,  Realisirung,  189  ff.  This  discussion  of  what  is  possible  for 
metaphysic  to-day  is  of  extreme  interest.  It  is  very  strongly  marked  by  the 
sense  of  a  total  break  with  pre-Kantian  ontology,  which  is  characterised 
in  such  a  phrase  as  “  iiber  alle  Moglickkeit  einer  Erfahrung  hinaus  ”  in  a 
way  which  I  must  confess  impresses  me  as  uncritical.  Would  it  it  be  main¬ 
tained,  e.g.  that  God  is  not  experienced?  But  the  central  point  is  that 
the  substantive  nature  of  metaphysic  is  judiciously  assigned,  though  the 
importance  of  the  sciences  for  it  is,  as  throughout  our  second  and  third 
phases,  in  my  view  exaggerated.  The  main  conception,  however,  which 
we  have  suggested  is  sustained  by  all  these  latest  developments,  viz.  that 
after  a  very  complete  reaction,  surviving  in  the  terror  of  ontology  which 
still  prevails,  a  new  metaphysic  is  forming  itself,  which  will  in  due 
time,  probably  without  much  explicit  recognition,  reconquer  and  incor¬ 
porate  with  itself  the  valuable  elements  of  the  old. 

29.  Natorp,  op.  cit. 


214  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


when  we  consider  the  open  ideal  as  we  might  call  it — the 
eternal  unfulfilment — to  which  this  view  abandons  the 
universe,  we  might  doubt  whether  the  school  is  not  still  too 
“  critical  to  possess  a  genuine  metaphysic.  And  yet,  as 
we  saw  in  the  case  of  Cassirer,  it  undoubtedly  possesses  in 
detail  many  points  of  view  which  have  considerable  meta¬ 
physical  value. 

It  is  therefore  with  a  good  deal  of  interest  that  one  notes 
the  revival  by  Nelson,30  in  a  new  sense,  of  the  old  conten¬ 
tion  that  the  theory  of  cognition,  as  an  anticipatory  enquiry 
into  the  possibility  of  knowledge,  is  impossible  because  self¬ 
contradictory.  There  might  indeed  be  a  doubt  whether 
the  “critical”  doctrine  offered  as  a  substitute — the  support 
of  metaphysical  judgments  by  appeal  to  an  immediate 
non-intuitive  cognition — is  not  itself  a  form  of  that  search 
for  a  “  pure  experience  ”  which  appeared  to  us  to  belong 
to  the  epistemological  attitude,  if  not,  in  this  case,  even 
to  a  position  which  is  psychological.  But  in  any  case, 
the  mere  raising  of  the  question  is  a  strong  instance  of  the 
rapprochement  to  Metaphysic  which  we  hope  and  believe 
that  we  are  right  in  ascribing  to  modern  Germany. 

We  have  now,  I  trust,  seen  something  of  the  main 
rhythm  and  direction  of  German  thought  in  the  nineteenth 
century.  It  was  no  pleasure  to  me  to  neglect  all  the  great 
men  whom  I  mentioned  at  the  beginning,  and  to  abstain 
from  noticing  the  ^Esthetic  of  Lipps,  the  value-philosophy 
of  Ehrenfels  and  Meinong,  and  the  Denkpsychologie  of 
Ach  and  Watt  and  Bukler.  And  I  could  well  have  spent  a 
whole  lecture  or  course  of  lectures  on  the  significance  of 
the  materialists,  or  the  peculiar  influence  of  Nietzsche. 
But,  to  parody  a  sentence  of  Hegel,  if  we  were  to  do 
anything,  it  was  necessary  to  do  something  in  particular. 
And  the  central  battle,  it  seems  to  me,  must  always  be 
decided  on  the  logical  and  metaphysical  field.  Ethics  and 
aesthetics,  sociology  and  political  science  will  “  follow  the 

30.  See  Acts  of  Bologna  Congress,  i.  266,  and  p.  192  above. 


The  History  of  Philosophy  215 

flag  ” ;  will  share  the  metaphysical  orientation.  And  so  I 
hope  that  we  may  have  gained  a  definite  impression,  not 
wholly  incorrect,  of  the  pulse  and  tendency  of  the  great 
intellectual  organisation  which  we  have  been  contemplat¬ 
ing.  And  I  shall  venture  to  conclude  by  expressing,  in 
old  phrases  of  my  Oxford  teachers  and  of  my  own,  my 
conviction  that  “  a  nation  does  not  lose  what  thinkers  like 
the  great  post-Kantians  have  taught  it”  ;  that  sensationalism, 
materialism,  and  other  “weak  persuasions”  matter  much 
less  in  a  country  where  so  deep  a  philosophical  culture  is 
presupposed,  than  over  here  where  they  might  be  taken 
au  pied  de  la  lettre;  and  that  is  it  is  true  of  the  post- 
Kantian  movement,  as  T.  H.  Green,  the  Oxford  Idealist, 
is  reported  to  have  said,  that  “  it  must  all  be  done  over 
again,”  we  may  at  least  find  everywhere  to-day,  in  the 
wide  and  strong  foundations  which  are  being  laid,  a  guide 
and  support  for  our  undying  faith  in  a  future  metaphysic, 
which  though  not  quite  the  meta physic  of  the  past,  will  be 
a  metaphysic  still. 


VIII.— THE  HISTORY  OF  MUSIC 


BY 

F.  BONAVIA 


t 


THE  HISTORY  OF  MUSIC 


Any  account  within  the  present  limits  of  German  music 
during  the  most  eventful  hundred  years  of  its  existence 
can  necessarily  be  no  more  than  an  outline  of  its  main 
course.  It  has  therefore  been  considered  preferable  to 
leave  untouched  important  sections,  like  chamber  music 
and  song,  since  they  were  fed  by  and  dependent  upon 
the  two  great  streams  of  activity — symphony  in  the  first 
half  of  the  century,  opera  in  the  second.  If  Cornelius  and 
Marschner  are  not  mentioned  it  is  not  that  they  were 
considered  unimportant  but  that  they  affected  only  slightly 
the  main  current.  Even  of  Beethoven  and  Wagner — the 
two  greatest  figures  of  the  century — only  those  aspects  of 
their  music  are  discussed  which  show  most  unambiguously 
the  thought  of  the  time  and  the  progress  towards  a  more 
comprehensive  ideal. 

Considerable  as  the  reform  of  Gluck  had  been  in  the 
eighteenth  century  it  yet  left  an  opening  for  reactionary 
tendencies.  Gluck  was  not  unwilling  to  admit  the  claim 
of  poetry  in  musical  drama  at  the  expense  of  music.  Con¬ 
ventionality  dictated  the  theme  of  the  opera.  Some  fifty 
operas  were  composed  in  the  eighteenth  century  alone  on 
the  subject  of  Ariadne  and  many  more  on  Alexander. 
Moreover,  Gluck  had  left  untouched  the  all-important 
question  of  styles.  After  the  death  of  John  Sebastian 
Bach  musicians  began  to  forsake  the  old  polyphony  for 
a  style  which  aimed  at  centering  all  interest  on  a  single 
line-melody,  to  which  all  the  rest  was  made  subservient. 
For  the  sake  of  what  they  regarded  as  beauty  of  melody  they 
came  in  time  to  sacrifice  all  force  and  proportion.  Com¬ 
position  was  gradually  reduced  to  a  search  for  the  softest, 
easiest  medium.  Everything  except  melody  could  be 
expressed  in  terms  of  a  stereotyped  formula.  Until 
Schumann  and  Mendelssohn  discovered  it  anew  the 


220  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


magnificent  polyphonic  machinery  of  Bach  lay  forgotten 
and  useless.  His  mournful  presage,  “  Die  alte  Art  der 
Musik  will  unsern  Ohren  nicht  mehr  klingen,”  was  proving 
only  too  true.  The  baneful  influence  of  Court  patronage 
had  permeated  the  whole  body  of  music  and  sapped  its 
natural  vitality.  Gluck  had  to  devote  years  of  his  life 
to  the  production  of  vapid  entertainments  for  the  Viennese 
Court.  Even  the  music  of  Mozart  had  no  national  signifi¬ 
cance.  It  was  never  in  touch  with  the  hulk  of  the  people. 
It  was  the  pastime  of  courtiers,  and  the  courtiers  of 
Vienna  patronised  with  equal  generosity  the  product  of 
German,  Italian  and  Slav.  From  the  day  when  Haydn 
entered  Vienna  until  Liszt  produced  “  Lohengrin  ”  in 
Weimar,  the  Austrian  capital  was  the  most  important 
centre  of  music  in  Europe.  But  it  was  not  a  centre  where 
national  characteristics  were  cultivated.  The  poetry  of 
the  Italian  Metastasio  was  applauded  as  well  as  the  music 
of  Haydn — a  Slav — or  of  Beethoven,  the  first  of  the  great 
German  composers  of  the  period.  To  give  back  to  Germans 
their  patrimony  of  folk-song,  to  revive  the  art  of  poly¬ 
phony,  to  raise  music  from  a  delightful  pastime  to  an  art 
of  national  importance  was  the  task  of  the  nineteenth 
century. 

To  achieve  this  two  things  were  essential.  In  the  first 
place,  it  was  necessary  to  sweep  aside  all  that  was  formal 
and  conventional  in  the  texture  of  musical  composition,  to 
fashion  a  new  instrument  capable  of  expressing  deeper 
emotions,  of  combining  the  majesty  of  Bach  with  the 
charm  of  Mozart.  This  was  the  mission  of  Beethoven. 
It  was  also  necessary  to  assert  once  for  all  the  right  of  the 
composer  over  the  singer  and  free  the  way  for  musical 
drama  which  should  not  depend  for  its  existence  on  the 
skill  of  the  chief  interpreters.  The  history  of  opera  before 
the  nineteenth  century  is  based  on  the  antagonism  between 
singer  and  composer.  The  conflict  between  the  poly¬ 
phonic  and  the  melodic  style  was  certainly  fostered  by  the 
preference  of  singers  for  melody  which  enabled  them  to 


The  History  of  Music 


221 


pose  as  the  autocrats  of  the  operatic  stage.  Since  singers 
preferred  Italian,  Gluck  and  Mozart  had  to  use  Italian 
libretti.  To  restore  to  his  place  the  composer,  to  find 
a  juster  proportion  between  music  and  drama  was  the  task 
of  Wagner.  Beethoven  and  Wagner  are  the  two  greatest 
figures  in  the  music  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  the 
advance  marked  by  the  symphonies  of  Beethoven  find  a 
fitting  parallel  in  the  progress  of  Wagner’s  operas.  The 
two"  movements  combined  represent  the  most  important 
evolution  music  has  ever  known  up  to  the  present  time. 

At  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  most  repre¬ 
sentative  figures  in  music  were  Haydn  and  Mozart. 
Neither  of  them  foreshadows  in  any  way  the  sudden 
change  to  come.  Of  the  two,  Haydn  is  perhaps 
nearer  to  the  ideals  of  the  future  since  he  instinctively 
felt  the  value  of  folksong.  But  Mozart,  who  has  left  a 
deeper  mark  in  history,  belongs  wholly  to  the  older  order 
of  things.  His  music  represents  the  highest  point  reached 
by  those  who  made  fineness  and  delicacy  their  chief  aim. 
Its  simplicity  and  directness,  its  technical  neatness,  the 
perfection  of  its  proportions,  the  symmetry  of  its  design, 
its  serenity — these  were  only  made  possible  by  the  fact 
that  it  compediates  all  the  musical  thought  of  Mozart’s 
time.  But  it  is  not  national.  The  best  Italians  come 
considerably  closer  to  Mozart  than  other  more  typically 
German  composers.  A  rich  harmonic  web,  and  the  epic 
grandeur  of  opera  which  have  ever  characterised  German 
music  from  Gluck  to  Strauss  are  not  his,  but  the  loveliness, 
the  naive  charm,  a  certain  scholastic  clarity  of  counter¬ 
point,  qualities  which  the  Italians  held  to  be  the  end  of  all 
music.  With  Mozart  the  supremacy  of  the  Austrian  com¬ 
poser  comes  to  an  end.  Schubert  and  Hugo  Wolf,  the 
greatest  Austrian  musicians  of  the  nineteenth  century,  did 
not  affect  the  course  of  music  in  the  same  degree  as 
Beethoven  or  Wagner.  Brahms  and  Beethoven,  although 
they  spent  a  considerable  part  of  their  life  in  Vienna,  were 
neither  of  them  Austrians. 

One  act,  however,  of  Mozart’s  life  is  not  without  signifi- 


222  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


cance  for  future  history.  When,  after  experiencing  the 
brutality  of  his  patron,  Bishop  Hieronymus,  Mozart 
resigned  his  post  in  the  jmelate’s  household,  he  marked  the 
end  of  the  era  of  patronage  in  music  no  less  definitely 
than  Johnson’s  “civil”  letter  to  Chesterfield  made  an 
end  to  patronage  in  English  literature.  In  the  nineteenth 
century  the  patronage  of  musicians  still  existed,  but  it  was 
no  longer  the  best  means  to  success.  The  patron  retained 
the  privilege  of  subscribing  for  the  publication  of  the 
composer’s  work,  of  applauding  and  flattering  him,  but  he 
ceased  to  have  an  active  influence.  He  could  no  longer 
demand  work  or  supply  the  occasion  for  it.  Beethoven 
wrote  when  he  pleased  and  whatever  he  chose.  The 
“  piece  d’occasion  ”  was  a  gracious  act,  not  a  duty.  The 
narrow-minded  patronage  which  bound  musicians  to  the 
household  of  a  prince  was  incompatible  with  the  newT 
movement  towards  independence  of  thought  and  action. 
It  is  true  that  in  some  cases  it  might  have  freed  the 
recipient  from  the  necessity  of  having  to  earn  a  precarious 
livelihood,  but  it  was  also  bound  to  isolate  him  from 
the  mass  of  the  people.  The  great  musicians  of  the 
nineteenth  century  drew  their  strength  from  the  thought 
as  well  as  from  the  songs  of  the  masses.  But  the  transition 
from  the  patronage  of  the  nobles  to  that  of  the  public  at 
large  was  a  period  of  severe  trial,  as  the  case  of  Schubert 
and  of  Mozart  himself  proves,  and  a  reversion  to  the  old 
conditions  would  not  have  been  improbable  if  the  first  man 
to  stand  alone  had  not  possessed  moral  qualities  as  well  as 
musical  genius  of  the  highest  order. 

Beethoven  was  acquainted  with  both  Haydn  and  Mozart. 
The  latter  knew  him  only  slightly.  Haydn,  on  the  other 
hand,  could  number  Beethoven  amongst  his  pupils,  and 
although  the  lessons  do  not  appear  to  have  been  much  to  the 
taste  of  either  pupil  or  master,  it  is  not  unlikely  that  they 
at  least  had  the  effect  of  inspiring  Beethoven  with  a  love  for 
melody  of  the  folk-song  type  and  of  drawing  his  attention 
to  the  possibilities  of  the  variation-form.  In  every  way  the 
temper  of  the  two  was  fundamentally  different  .  Beethoven, 


The  History  of  Music 


223 


like  Haydn,  lived  on  good  terms  with  the  titled  Maecenas 
of  Yiennese  society,  hut  the  great  affliction  which  troubled 
him  during  the  greater  part  of  his  existence  developed  a 
sensitiveness,  a  liking  for  solitude,  a  spiritual  life  which 
recalls  the  later  years  of  another  giant  who  had  to  bear 
the  weight  of  misfortune,  Milton .  Beethoven  was  sincerely 
religious,  but  his  was  one  of  those  natures  which  shrink 
from  parading  their  profoundest  convictions.  Like  most 
of  his  predecessors,  he  could  only  express  himself  in 
music.  Weber,  Schumann,  Wagner,  Berlioz,  were,  in 
varying  degrees,  experienced  writers;  but  for  Beethoven 
music  was  the  only  means  of  expression.  We  must  look  to 
his  work  and  to  the  known  facts  of  his  life  rather  than 
to  the  few  notes  he  left  behind  for  an  insight  into  his 
character.  His  articles  of  faith  are  the  “  canzone  in 
modo  lidico,”  the  devotional  mood  which  tempers  the 
gaiety  of  the  last  sections  of  the  ninth  symphony  and 
the  “  Missa  Solemnis.”  Outwardly  he  was  brusque 
in  manner  and  intolerant  of  conventionalities  and 
restrictions.  Like  General  Yon  Bose,  he  did  not  hesitate 
to  break  rules  when  he  found  them  an  obstacle  in  his  way. 
After  a  few  tentative  efforts  before  the  closing  of  the 
eighteenth  century  he  made  directly  for  his  goal  and  never 
paused  until  he  had  reached  it.  To  Mozart’s  success  the 
definition  of  “  divine  accident  ”  applies  with  some  fitness — 
not  to  Beethoven.  Will-pow'er  and  moral  force  are 
intrinsic  qualities  of  the  nine  symphonies.  Themes  did 
not  occur  easily  to  Beethoven  in  their  finished  form.  He 
had  to  cast  them  again  and  again  before  they  acquired 
the  required  shape — an  operation  which  sometimes  taxed 
his  uncommon  strength  to  the  utmost.  Moreover,  his 
favourite  forms — the  symphony  and  the  quartet — are  the 
most  exacting  of  all  musical  schemes.* 

*  Gautier  says  :  l’oeuvre  sort  plus  belle 

d’une  forme  au  travail 

Rebelle, 

Vers,  marbre,  onyx,  email. 


224  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


Some  of  tlie  earliest  compositions  of  Beethoven  contain 
plain  hints  that  a  change  is  about  to  take  place.  Some¬ 
times  it  is  a  melodic  phrase  that  is  no  longer  gracious 
and  tender  but  passionately  insistent.  Or  it  may  be  that 
the  place  usually  assigned  to  the  minuet  in  the  symphony 
is  given  to  a  scherzo  so  odd  and  whimsical  that  it  seems 
almost  a  witty  caricature  of  the  stately  dance.  The  final 
change  came  in  1802  when  Beethoven  announced  definitely 
his  intention  of  setting  out  on  a  new  path.  The  “  Eroica,'’ 
the  immediate  outcome  of  the  resolve,  is  the  first  of  the 
nine  symphonies  to  throw  light  on  the  new  tendencies. 
What  are  the  chief  characteristics  of  the  Eroica,  in  what 
does  it  differ  essentially  from  all  the  symphonies  written 
before?  In  the  first  place,  there  is  the  extension  of 
structure;  then  there  is  the  substitution  of  the  dramatic 
for  a  purely  lyrical  type  of  melody.  The  greatest  struc¬ 
tural  change  takes  place  in  the  quick  middle  movement 
which  stands  for  the  minuet  of  the  older  composers.  The 
change  in  the  character  of  the  melody  is  evident  mostly 
in  the  first  and  second  sections.  The  scherzo  retains  the 
barest  outline  of  the  parent  dance-form,  the  matter  is 
altogether  new,  and  implies  a  general  refinement  of 
technical  means  opening  sources  hitherto  unknown. 
Rhythm  is  no  longer  a  frame  for  the  action  but  itself 
an  agent.  Dissonance  is  not  simply  a  retarder  of  conson¬ 
ance  but  acquires  a  significance  and  a  value  of  its  own  as  a 
dramatic  element.  The  change  in  the  melody  is  slightly 
more  complex.  There  is,  most  notable,  a  tendency 
to  shorten  its  ordered  measure,  to  compress  it,  to  reduce  it 
to  the  marrow;  then,  enlarged  and  developed  by  a 
manifold  system  of  variations,  to  make  it  capable  of  ex¬ 
pressing  every  shade  of  thought.  The  poise  of  the  very 
first  phrase  with  its  suspended  resolution  arrests  attention. 
Themes  are  no  longer  found  in  rigid  groups  of  four  or 
eight  bars;  they  move  freely,  obeying  a  much  subtler 
rhythmical  instinct.  The  second  subject  in  the  first 
movement  of  the  Eroica  consists  in  its  shortest  form  of 


The  History  of  Music 


225 


three  bars  with  so  touchingly  human  an  appeal  that  it 
has  the  eloquence  of  a  sudden  gesture,  a  glance,  rather 
than  that  which  was  then  conceived  to  he  peculiar  to 
music.  Such  examples  are  plentiful  in  all  the  later 
Beethoven’s  scores.  This  reduction  of  melody  to  a 
pregnant  symbol  has  proved  the  basis  of  all  modern 
advance.  It  enhances  the  emotional  value  of  the  sentence 
which  becomes  more  pointed,  and  it  opens  infinite  possi¬ 
bilities  of  variation — the  starting  point  of  the  Wagnerian 
leitmotif.  In  the  majesty  of  the  funeral  march  there  is 
perhaps  less  of  technical  novelty;  the  imaginative  quality 
of  its  fugal  section,  in  which  the  voices  of  the  mourners 
seem  to  rise  in  supplication,  is,  however,  a  wonderful 
example  of  an  old  form  galvanised  into  new  life.  The 
pitiful  wail  at  the  end,  which,  it  is  said,  ran  insistently  in 
Moseheles’  mind  as  he  stood  by  the  death-bed  of 
Mendelssohn,  is  entirely  of  the  new  order. 

The  next  landmark,  the  C  Minor  Symphony,  carries  still 
further  the  lesson  of  the  Eroica,  and  stands  out  as  the  first 
musical  composition  to  reflect  the  political  events  of  its 
time.  The  intended  dedication  of  the  Eroica  to  Napoleon 
would  have  fitted  this  symphony  far  better.  It  was  a 
time  requiring  bold  and  quick  action.  Boldness,  deter¬ 
mination  and  self-assertion  are  at  the  root  of  the  C  Minor 
Symphony.  In  oneness  of  aim,  in  its  splendid  unity  it  is 
without  parallel.  All  the  usual  canons  are  set  aside. 
Contrast  is  obtained  by  viewing  the  subject  from 
another  standpoint  rather  than  by  opposing  themes  of 
different  character.  Immediately  after  the  appearance  of 
the  eight  notes  said  to  represent  the  second  or  subsidiary 
subject  the  design  of  the  first  theme  is  added  to  it  by  way 
of  contrapuntal  support,  and  this  design,  this  symbol,  is, 
in  fact,  present  throughout  the  piece.  Its  short  frame  is 
contrived  admirably  for  contrapuntal  purposes.  It  is  in 
place  everywhere  and  always  used  with  telling  effect.  It 
knits  together  the  whole  texture  indissolubly.  Even  the 
other  movements  partake  of  the  general  character  approacli- 


o 


226  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

# 

ing  the  central  idea  of  the  symphony  from  different  points  to 
end  invariably  in  an  assertion  of  power  and  determination. 
Every  chord  of  the  finale  is  an  affirmation  of  indomitable 
will.  The  usual  divisions  into  main  and  subsidiary  sub¬ 
jects  lose  their  importance  here,  since  all  the  subjects 
express  the  same  idea  having  the  same  aesthetic  intention 
and  value. 

With  the  Pastoral  Symphony  Beethoven  touches  upon 
a  very  different  aspect  of  the  musical  development  of  the 
century.  The  Eroica  stands  for  the  warlike  moods  aroused 
by  the  Napoleonic  era.  The  Pastoral  represents  the  new 
feeling  for  Nature  still  embryonic,  but  none  the  less 
perfectly  genuine.  Nature  for  him  is  a  source  of  unceas¬ 
ing  delight;  he  does  not  penetrate  her  subtler  moods.  He 
finds  in  nature  the  peace  and  solitude  the  town-dweller 
seeks  vainly  in  his  familiar  haunts.  Her  sterner,  awful 
aspects,  like  her  mysticism,  music  did  not  penetrate  until 
Wagner  interpreted  the  symbol.  Mendelssohn  and 
Berlioz  caught  the  hidden  threat  under  the  external  love¬ 
liness.  But  even  the  company  of  peasants  in  the  Pastoral 
Symphony,  rejoicing  in  the  return  of  the  sunshine,  are  a 
considerable  advance  on  the  Thirsis  and  Chloe  affectations 
of  the  previous  era.  And  although  Beethoven  failed  to 
carry  these  ideas  to  their  logical  conclusion,  he  was  perfectly 
aware  how  nature  ought  to  be  approached.  “  Mehr 
Ausdruck  der  Empfindung  als  Malerei,”  is  the  definition 
he  gives  of  the  symphony.  Yet,  curiously  enough,  he 
descends  to  a  mere  imitation  as  close  as  possible  of  the 
song  of  the  nightingale,  the  twitter  of  the  quail,  and  the 
call  of  the  cuckoo.  In  spite  of  the  many  happy  strokes  of 
a  technical  kind  the  “  Pastoral  ”  is  still  bound  by  a  con¬ 
ventional  conception.  It  is,  in  fact,  little  more  than  a 
catalogue  of  Nature’s  habitual  effects. 

These  are  the  symphonies  which  stand  out  conspicuously 
in  the  historic  advance.  The  ninth  symphony,  the  greatest 
of  them  all,  is,  apart  from  the  introduction  of  the  chorus, 
an  enlargement  of  previous  themes  rather  than  a  new 


The  History  of  Music 


227 


departure.  It  sums  up  all  previous  achievements ;  its 
melody  is  even  more  pregnant  than  before,  its  dramatic 
appeal  more  searching.  But  the  means  by  which  the 
result  is  attained  are  essentially  the  same. 

The  immediate  result  of  the  nine  symphonies  of 
Beethoven  was  to  place  Germany  highest  amongst  all  the 
musical  nations — a  position  she  has  maintained  ever  since. 
They  fixed  for  all  time  the  importance  of  the  symphony 
and  opened  the  way  for  future  progress  not  only  in  the 
classical  but  in  musical  drama.  How  much  Wagner  owes 
to  Beethoven  no  one  has  yet  attempted  to  compute,  hut  it 
is  generally  acknowledged  that  the  debt  is  great.  The 
symphony  is  a  form  peculiarly  suited  to  the  German 
temperament  as  it  demands  besides  inventive  genius  and 
imagination  a  sense  of  order  and  power  of  organisation, — 
qualities  in  which  Germans  have  ever  excelled.  But  even 
in  those  countries  where  the  symphony  has  never  taken 
firm  root  the  example  of  Beethoven  put  heart  into 
reformers  and  stimulated  progress.  Beethoven  was  the 
battle-cry  of  Berlioz  and  Boito  when  they  sought  to 
free  the  music  of  France  and  Italy  from  the  deadly  grip 
of  conventional  routine. 

Beethoven  had  no  immediate  successor;  Wagner  is  the 
only  nineteenth  century  musician  whose  reforms  can  he 
compared  with  his.  Less  of  a  heroic  temper  than 
these  Schubert  might  have  emulated  Mozart  in  naive 
simplicity  if  Beethoven  had  not  been.  The  effect  of 
the  combined  influence  of  Mozart  and  Beethoven 
was  to  make  of  Schubert  the  most  romantic  of  the  sym¬ 
phonic  writers.  A  Southerner,  he  betrays  his  origin  by 
his  reliance  upon  melody,  by  the  want  of  intensity  in  his 
style  which  is  lucid  rather  than  robust.  The  design, 
sometimes  too  vast  for  the  matter  which  rests  upon  it,  is, 
however,  the  chief  failing  of  Schubert.  Unrecognised 
during  his  lifetime,  he  is  now  held  to  stand  considerably 
nearer  to  Beethoven  than  the  accomplished,  facile,  admired 
Mendelssohn.  To  Mendelssohn  indeed  posterity  has 


228  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


assigned  a  much  lower  position  than  his  contemporaries 
would  have  thought  possible.  Though  a  native  like 
Brahms  of  Hamburg,  he  has  none  of  the  characteristics 
of  the  Northern  men.  Of  his  considerable  output  only 
those  works  have  survived  which  show  to  best  advantage 
his  gift  for  colour.  The  rest  is  as  forgotten  as  Lord 
Lytton’s  novels  in  spite  of  the  unquestionable  fluency 
of  his  melody  and  the  impeccable  shape  of  his  phrases. 
Extremely  sensitive  to  outside  influence,  he  fell  under  the 
sway  of  romanticism.  “  The  Midsummer  Night’s  Dream” 
music,  the  Hebrides  overture  are  fine  examples  of  the 
stimulating  effect  of  poetry  upon  music.  These  are  in 
truth  symphonic  poems  which  admit  of  the  usual  divisions 
of  the  classical  plan,  although  critics  who  admire 
Mendelssohn  not  wisely  may  hesitate  to  admit  it.  A 
citizen  of  the  world  Mendelssohn  could  not  well  represent 
national  tendencies.  But  wherever  he  went,  he  carried 
with  him  the  passionate  desire  for  fantastic  beauty  and 
scenery.  At  the  Hebrides  he  saw 

....  the  foam 
of  perilous  seas  .... 

and  he  searched  South  and  North  Italy  and  Scotland  for 
the  “faery  lands  forlorn.” 

But  neither  Mendelssohn  nor  Schubert  could  assimilate 
one  feeling  of  romanticism.  The  worship  of  heroism 
which  sent  Byron  to  fight  for  Greece  and  produced 
Werther  in  Germany,  Jacopo  Hortis  in  Italy,  which 
stirred  so  deeply  Berlioz  in  France,  has  no  parallel  in 
German  music  until  we  come  to  Schumann,  the  last 
and  the  most  important  of  the  romantics  of  the  century. 
Beethoven  was  of  the  people ;  Schubert,  like  Mendelssohn, 
stands  for  the  new  interest  in  extravagant  and  fantastic 
beauty ;  Schumann  for  the  individual  consciousness 
aroused  by  the  worship  of  heroism.  It  is  the  business  of 
the  exponent  of  heroism  to  focus  attention  on  the 
individual  and  to  excite  emulation  which  must  needs  take 


The  History  of  Music 


229 


the  form  of  a  noble  egotism.  In  Schumann  we  find  for 
the  first  time  the  striving  after  personality.  “  Mensch 
und  musiker  suchten  sich  immer  gleichzeitig  bei  mir 
auszusprechen,”  he  said.  In  many  ways  he  forms  the 
most  striking  contrast  to  Mendelssohn.  One  was  all  for 
colour,  brightness,  smooth  curves,  using  material  which, 
ready  at  hand,  could  be  made  to  appear  new  after  polish¬ 
ing  and  re-fashioning.  Schumann’s  qualities  are  intimacy, 
loftiness  of  ideas,  personality  and  a  disregard  for  common 
effects  which  falls  not  far  short  of  contempt.  He  was  not 
endowed  with  a  capacity  for  writing  fluent  melodies  like 
Mozart,  and  he  had  too  critical  a  mind  to  dare  with  the 
boldness  of  Beethoven,  yet  he  is  the  most  important  link 
in  the  chain  connecting  the  music  of  the  nineteenth 
century  to  the  music  of  our  own  day.  He  saw  the  value 
of  closer  unity  and  sought  to  achieve  it  by  the  use  of  a 
“  motto  ”  which  was  to  connect  all  the  threads  of  the 
symphony.  He  used  the  variation-form  with  the  mastery 
of  Beethoven;  his  themes  are,  like  those  of  Beethoven, 
fraught  with  significance  and  possibilities.  Without 
Mendelssohn  the  music  of  the  nineteenth  century  would 
have  lost  much,  though  its  course  would  not  have  been 
different.  But  Schumann  was  needed  to  clinch  the  truth 
proclaimed  by  Beethoven  that  plastic  beauty  is  not  the 
only  important  element  of  music;  that  in  song  a  close 
connection  between  words  and  music  is  essential;  finally, 
that  thought  is  of  greater  value  than  a  naturally  facile 
temperament.  Schumann  was  the  first  to  hail  the 
advent  of  Brahms  and  to  discover  the  importance  of 
Bach  in  German  music  to  whom,  he  said,  music  owes  as 
great  a  debt  as  religion  to  its  founder.  He  was,  moreover, 
the  first  and  the  soundest  of  critics.  During  the  years  in 
which  he  owned  and  edited  the  Neue  Zeitschrift  fur  Musik 
(1834 — 1853)  he  laid  the  foundation  of  all  modern  criticism. 
The  practical  knowledge  he  possessed  of  the  subject  and  his 
keenly  critical  mind  may  have  affected  his  composition,  to 
some  extent,  in  a  not  auspicious  manner  since  those  whose 


230  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


place  is  in  the  van  must  sometimes  rely  on  instinct  rather 
than  knowledge.  But  knowledge  is  the  first  qualification  for 
criticism,  and  some  of  his  writings  are  as  permanent  as  his 
symphonies.  Of  catholic  taste,  he  spoke  with  equal 
authority  on  such  varied  composers  as  Berlioz  and  Chopin. 
To  his  contemporaries  his  judgment  of  Meyerbeer  may 
have  appeared  severe ;  posterity,  however,  has  come  to  see 
the  justice  of  his  strictures. 

During  the  first  half  of  the  century  the  symphony  was 
the  most  important  musical  product  of  Germany.*  In  the 
second  half  the  operas  of  Wagner  began  to  loom  on  the 
horizon,  hut  before  the  claims  of  opera  gained  general 
recognition  the  symphony  found  one  more  exponent 
around  whom  the  upholders  of  classicism  or  “  pure 
music  ”  rallied  to  maintain  its  superiority  against  all 
other  forms.  Schumann  used  a  happy  phrase  when,  in 
a  memorable  article  in  the  Neue  Zeitschrift  fur  Musik, 
entitled  “  Neue  Bahnen,”  he  describes  Johannes  Brahms 
as  “  armed  at  all  points.”  He  appears,  in  fact,  invulner¬ 
able.  No  matter  from  what  standpoint  he  is  considered  he  is 
found  true  and  irreproachable.  Although  temperamentally 
he  differs  considerably  from  Beethoven  he  carried  to  their 
logical  conclusion  Beethoven’s  innovations,  and  in  many 
ways  his  work  is  the  complement  of  Beethoven’s.  When 
Wagner  was  opposed  to  Brahms  and  opera  to  symphony 
his  right  to  be  regarded  as  Beethoven’s  successor  was 
denied.  But  it  is  difficult  to  see  on  what  grounds  the 
denial  could  be  based.  The  affinity  between  the  last  of 
Beethoven’s  and  the  first  of  Brahms’  sonatas  for  piano  and 
violin  is  greater  than  that  of  any  other  two  compositions 
by  men  of  strong  individual  character.  Perhaps  we  are 
ourselves  too  near  to  Brahms  to  express  anything  like  a 
final  judgment.  The  very  flawlessness  of  his  armour 
makes  one  fear  that  the  future  will  discover  the  weakness 
which  is  hidden  from  us.  But  if  dignity  of  conception  and 
loftiness  of  ideas  are  the  test  of  classicism,  surely  Brahms 

*  The  first  performance  of  Lohengrin  took  place  in  1850  at  Weimar. 


The  History  of  Music 


231 


is  the  most  classical  of  them  all.  For  all  his  aristocratic 
taste  he  was  not  incapable  of  being  swayed  by  the  feelings 
which  appeal  to  the  majority.  On  the  contrary,  no  one 
has  utilised  folk-song  to  better  purpose,  and  the  charm  of 
some  of  his  songs  as  of  his  arrangements  of  Hungarian 
dance-tunes  is  as  clear  to  the  cultivated  as  to  the 
unlearned.  But  even  in  the  presence  of  death  he  main¬ 
tains  a  dignity  which  gives  to  the  “  Ernste  Gesange  ”  the 
tone  of  a  weighty  prophecy.  The  modern  symphony 
recognises  Beethoven  as  its  founder.  It  found  in  Schubert 
its  most  melodious  voice.  It  became  with  Schumann  the 
medium  of  most  intimate  thought ;  Brahms  gave  it  its 
loftiest,  most  serene  expression. 

In  the  symphony  the  Germans  had  practically  the  field 
to  themselves.  In  opera,  however,  the  rivalry  of  the 
Italians  could  not  well  be  ignored.  The  antagonism  was 
based  quite  as  much  on  style  as  on  the  actual  technique  of 
the  music.  Germany  had  shown  a  distinct  bias  for 
polyphony  while  the  Italians  favoured  the  melodic  type. 
The  antagonism,  although  in  a  less  acute  form,  exists  to 
this  day.  In  the  early  nineteenth  century  and  even  later, 
Italians  denied  practically  all  virtue  to  polyphonic  music ; 
the  worship  of  melody  was  carried  by  them  to  such  an  extent 
that  the  elementary  rules  of  all  drama  were  sacrificed  for 
the  sake  of  conventional  divisions  which  gave  singers  the 
opportunity  of  excelling,  first  in  the  treatment  of  broad 
melody  then  in  the  execution  of  technical  feats.*  Music 
had  no  part  in  the  unfolding  of  the  story  and  was  confined 
to  a  number  of  melodious  pieces  which  commented 

*  The  Italian  opera  of  the  eighteenth  century  depended  on  singers  as 
much  as  the  Commedia  dell’ Arte  depended  on  actors.  The  only  differ- 
ance  was  that  in  a  musical  entertainment  pre-arrangement  cannot  be 
altogether  dispensed  with.  Virtuosi  had,  however,  a  full  opportunity 
for  improvisation  in  the  “cadenza.”  In  any  case  even  serious  artists 
did  not  scruple  to  ignore  the  composer’s  intentions  to  suit  their  tastes. 
It  is  highly  probable  that  one  passage  in  the  modern  editions  of 
Beethoven’s  violin  concerto  is  an  interpolation  of  a  not  too  scrupulous 
editor. 


232  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


lyrically  upon  the  dramatic  situation.  The  actual  business 
of  the  drama  was  carried  on  mostly  by  the  Recitativo,  a 
hybrid  between  song  and  speech,  which  seldom  had  any 
musical  interest  whatever.  The  most  varied  situations 
could  be  accompanied  by  a  sequence  of  harmonies  corre¬ 
sponding  to  a  formula  in  which  invention  had  no  part. 
The  actual  number  of  melodies — arias  and  cabaletta — was 
dependent  not  upon  the  fitness  of  certain  situations  for 
lyrical  expression,  but  on  the  number  of  singers  needed  for 
the  action.  No  singer  of  reputation  cared  to  take  part  in  an 
opera  which  did  not  give  him  a  full  opportunity  of  display¬ 
ing  his  individual  peculiarities.  So  great  was  the  tyranny 
of  the  vocalist  that  in  time  “  arias  ”  came  to  be  written 
expressly  for  this  or  that  singer,  and  the  music  had  to  be 
arranged  so  as  to  bring  out  the  qualities  of  the  individual 
performer.  Pergolesi’s  “La  Serva  Padrona,”  probably 
the  best  Italian  example  of  the  opera  in  which  Recitativo 
alternating  with  the  Aria,  obeys  the  most  conventional 
plan  ever  imposed  on  an  artistic  form.  Mozart  himself 
only  altered  the  pattern  in  so  much  that  the  Recitativo 
is  often  no  mere  stereotyped  formula  but  has  sincerity  and 
interest  of  its  own.  The  difficulties  which  stood  in  the 
way  of  reform  were  many;  chief  amongst  them  the  fact 
that  singers  were  naturally  loath  to  abandon  their  position 
as  arbiters  of  the  opera.  The  public  besides  had  come  to 
look  upon  the  opera  as  a  collection  of  musical  pieces  for 
which  the  action  furnished  the  occasion. 

In  1821  Spontini  had  just  won  a  considerable  success 
with  “  Olympie  ”  in  Berlin,  when  Weber,  then  known 
only  as  the  composer  of  patriotic  folk-songs,  produced 
“  Der  Freischtitz  ”  at  another  theatre.  The  impression  it 
made  was  such  that  “  Olympie  ”  and  its  composer  were 
immediately  forgotten,  and  in  a  short  time  all  Germany 
proclaimed  Weber  a  national  champion.  And  in  many 
ways  Weber  represented  the  spirit  of  his  nation  and  of  his 
time.  Apart  from  the  patriotism  which  sent  him  to 
Korner  for  the  words  of  his  songs,  his  music  is  imbued 


The  History  of  Music 


233 


with  the  romanticism  which  later  led  Wagner  to  “  Die 
Meistersinger,”  as  well  as  to  the  “  Niebelungen  Ding.'1 
To  Weber  belongs  the  honour  of  having  first  understood 
the  full  potentiality  of  a  modern  orchestra,  its  fitness  to 
suggest  by  means  of  music  what  till  then  had  been  reserved 
for  poetry.  Just  as  Schumann  later  found  the  perfect 
ratio  between  words  and  notes  in  song,  Weber  discovered 
the  just  proportion  between  the  singer  and  the  orchestra. 
The  feeling  for  nature  which  found  expression  in 
Beethoven’s  Pastoral  Symphony  becomes  in  Weber  a  still 
deeper  appreciation  of  the  infinitely  varied  aspects  Nature 
can  present.  Not  the  beauty  of  lake  and  woodland 
alone  appeal  to  him,  but  also  her  mystery  and  terror.  He 
made  even  one  attempt  in  “  Euryanthe  ”  to  abolish  the  old 
Pecitativo  and  to  mould  words  and  music  into  one  great 
scene  or  act;  but  “  Euryanthe,”  for  different  reasons,  did 
not  succeed,  and  it  was  reserved  for  Wagner  to  bring 
German  opera  to  its  most  perfect  form.  “  Eidelio,’’ 
magnificent  as  it  is  musically,  did  not  affect  the  actual 
form  of  opera.  Weber’s  one  failing  was  the  choice 
of  texts  unsuitable  for  dramatic  representation.  “Oberon,” 
like  “  Euryanthe,”  is  built  on  a  text  which  could  not 
possibly  interest  a  critical  audience.* 

Much  in  the  way  in  which  Beethoven  welded  the  sym¬ 
phony  into  an  almost  new  form  capable  of  expressing 
what  had  been  thought  before  to  be  beyond  music,  Wagner 
evolved  from  the  conventional  opera  of  his  predecessor  a 
type  which  has  ever  since  been  accepted  as  the  best  possible 
combination  of  dramatic  action  and  music.  His  reform  in 
regard  to  the  drama  is  as  radical  as  the  advance  in 
technique.  The  most  glaring  faults  of  the  old  system 
which  wedded  music  to  words  of  a  diametrically  opposite 
character  in  order  to  show  the  skill  of  the  singer  in  melody 

*  More  judgment  in  this  respect  was  shown  by  Heinrich  Marschner, 
Weber’s  assistant  at  the  Dresden  Opera  House,  who,  although  consider¬ 
ably  influenced  by  his  colleague,  yet  shares  with  him  the  distinction  of 
having  influenced  in  some  degree  Richard  Wagner. 


234  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


and  “  bravura,”  the  utter  absurdity  of  a  conception  which 
subordinated  the  needs  of  the  drama  to  the  insatiable 
ambition  of  singers — had  been  modified  to  some  extent 
by  Weber.  But  Wagner  was  the  first  to  distinguish 
between  dramatic  subjects  those  to  which  music  could  best 
be  applied.  He  chose  invariably  a  broad  subject  and  situa¬ 
tions  which  gave  music  every  opportunity  for  expansion 
and  comment.  The  first  act  of  the  “  Yalkiire,”  for  instance, 
one  of  the  longest  single  acts  in  existence,  consists  of  three 
scenes  almost  devoid  of  the  incidents  by  which  the 
dramatic  author  usually  interests  his  audience.  Yet  it  is 
so  perfect  a  thing  of  its  kind  that  the  dramatic  interest 
never  flags  for  a  moment.  Milton  and  sometimes 
Shakespere  show  equal  disregard  for  the  pressing 
of  incident  upon  incident  which  is  often  miscalled 
“  dramatic  business  ” ;  they  trust  solely  to  the  power  of  the 
word  as  Wagner  trusts  solely  to  the  power  of  music.  Even 
the  earlier  operas — “  Tannhauser,”  “  Lohengrin  ” — show  a 
considerable  reduction  of  dramatic  apparatus  compared 
with  other  operas  of  the  time. 

The  symphonic  recitative  is  the  most  important  Wag¬ 
nerian  contribution  to  the  technique  of  opera,  for  it  enables 
the  composer  to  give  musical  interest  to  those  parts  of  the 
action  which  in  the  old  days  would  have  been  accompanied 
by  a  few  threadbare  harmonies.  By  the  use  of  the  “  leit¬ 
motif  ”  the  orchestra  can  assume  the  function  of  the  Greek 
chorus,  commenting  upon  the  action,  or  anticipating  it,  or 
again  describing  and  hinting  at  the  events  which  led  up  to 
the  situation  of  the  moment.  It  matters  little  whether 
Wagner  was  the  actual  discoverer  of  the  leit-motif,  he  was 
certainly  the  first  to  use  it  to  such  excellent  purpose. 
But  the  leit-motif  is  not  without  its  weak  point. 
Practically  in  the  whole  of  “  Meistersinger  ”  it  is  used 
with  a  skill  and  tact  beyond  praise,  but  in  the  “  Bing  ” 
it  leads  Wagner  to  indulge  in  repetitions  he  would  prob¬ 
ably  have  avoided  if  he  had  not  felt  anxious  to  persuade 
himself  and  his  listeners  of  the  absolute  soundness  of  the 


235 


The  History  of  Music 

theory.  The  same  story  is  told  over  and  over  again,  and 
every  time  it  reappears  the  dramatic  interest  gives  way  to 
the  purely  musical.  The  story  of  the  stolen  gold  is  told 
again  at  considerable  length  in  all  the  subsequent  dramas, 
and  narrative  is  fundamentally  opposed  to  drama.  What 
has  been  acted  before  our  eyes  will  lose  interest  the  oftener 
we  hear  it  told. 

No  doubt  Wagner  would  hold  by  the  argument  he 
applied  to  the  words  of  his  libretti.  The  words,  he  main¬ 
tained,  are  only  a  peg  on  which  to  hang  music.*  But  if 
words  are  used  at  all  they  cannot  be  disregarded.  They 
must  be  measured  by  the  standard  usually  applied  to 
words.  Good  poetry  must  conform  to  the  generally 
accepted  definition  by  which  it  is  distinguished  from  bad 
and  indifferent  poetry.  The  fact  seems  to  be  that  Wagner 
could  conceive  a  drama  with  all  the  imaginative  force  of 
the  poet,  although  he  lacked  the  technical  facility  to 
express  his  conception  effectively  by  means  of  words  alone. 
Tested  by  poetic  standards  these  operas  must  be  found 
wanting. 

From  “  Tannhauser  ”  to  “  Parsifal  ”  the  Wagnerian  plan 
is  the  same,  even  if  the  execution  follows  different  lines. 
“  Tannhauser,”  “  Lohengrin,”  “  Tristan,”  the  three  plays 
forming  “  The  Ping  of  Niebelung,”  “  Parsifal,”  are 
all  in  three  acts.  Every  act  exhibits  either  the  prepara¬ 
tion,  the  development  or  the  denouement  of  the  central 
idea.  The  motive  power  is,  with  the  exception  of  “  The 
Ping  ”  and,  of  course,  of  the  great  comic  opera  “  Meister- 
singer,”  common  to  all  his  plays.  The  great  Christian 
virtue  of  self-denial  is  the  soul  of  “  Tannhauser  ”  as  of 
“  Parsifal.”  Through  sacrifice,  through  willing  renuncia¬ 
tion  alone  can  one  attain  salvation.  Incontinence  and  greed 
must  end  in  disaster.  The  second  part  of  “  The  Ping” 

*  In  this  respect  Wagner  is  opposed  to  Gluck.  Gluck  held  that  music 
should  be  second  to  poetry,  while  Wagner  maintained  that  the  composer 
reaching  to  the  thought  underlying  the  word  is  perfectly  justified  in 
carrying  his  musical  ideas  beyond  the  limits  warranted  by  the  text. 


236  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


seems  to  imply  a  different  conclusion.  The  glorification 
of  Siegfried — the  TJebermensch,  the  impulse  of  life — over¬ 
throws  every  obstacle  heedless  of  consequences,  has  been 
taken  as  typical  of  Wagner’s  philosophy  of  life.  But 
Siegfried,  like  Tristran,  like  Amfortas,  ends  only  in  death 
and  punishment.  Probably  it  did  represent  at  the  time 
Wagner’s  ideal  hero.  No  man  can  know  the  full  worth 
of  an  idea  of  a  system  unless  he  tested  and  in  the  end 
found  fallacious  the  opposite  ideas  and  systems.  The 
greatest  saints  have  had  to  withstand  the  greatest  tempta¬ 
tions.  But  Parsifal  as  a  typical  Wagnerian  hfcro  is  much 
more  in  accordance  with  precedents.  Senta,  Elisabeth, 
pure  like  Parsifal,  are  the  means  of  remitting  punishment 
and  of  salvation.  Brunhilde  and  Elsa  who  break  their 
allegiance,  Siegfried,  Tristan,  Tannhauser,  Amfortas, 
because  incontinent,  must  suffer  and  be  the  cause  of 
suffering.  The  theme  of  Tannhauser  ”  is  also  the  theme 
of  “  Parsifal,”  though  the  treatment  is  essentially  different. 
There  is  in  “  Parsifal  ”  a  mellowing  of  tones,  a  new 
sympathy  with  suffering,  a  feeling  of  pity  which  has  no 
parallel  in  the  previous  dramas  and  with  it  a  less 
sure  handling  of  the  story.  By  far  the  greater  part 
of  its  first  act  is  given  up  to  the  narration  and 
later  actual  representation  of  the  punishment  meted  out 
to  those  who  give  way  to  temptation.  There  is  here  no 
Tannhauser  to  stand  up  boldly  and  answer  argument  with 
argument  proclaiming  that  the  denial  of  the  senses  means 
the  death  of  the  world.  But  there  is  also  no  Siegfried  to 
trample  others  underfoot  that  he  may  reach  his  end  the 
sooner.  The  life  of  every  breathing  thing  is  sacred  in  the 
domains  of  the  Grail. 

In  his  choice  of  themes  Wagner  was  thoroughly  of  his 
time.  Religion  is  the  first  of  the  “  higher  things  ”  for 
Novalis.  Overbeck  headed  a  school  of  painting  which 
drew  inspiration  from  religion.  Fr.  Schlegel  attributed 
all  artistic  weakness  to  the  want  of  sound  mythological 
foundation.  Self-restriction  was  for  Goethe  implied  in 


The  History  of  Music 


237 


self -development.  The  interest  in  national  ideas  with  the 
concomitant  interest  in  history  was  one  of  the  most 
important  features  of  the  quickening  of  imagination  in  the 
new  sensibility  known  as  romanticism.  After  religion  the 
“  higher  things  ”  for  Novalis  are  love  and  politics.  From 
these  motives  are  derived  “Tristan/’  a  masterpiece  of  unity 
and  directness,  and  “  The  Ring  of  the  Niebelung,”  the 
most  representative  work  of  German  romanticism  impreg¬ 
nated  with  all  its  speculative  elements — philosophy,  love, 
religion,  politics. 

With  tools  refined  and  made  perfect  Wagner  could 
express  an  appreciation  of  Nature  which  far  surpasses  that 
of  all  other  composers  with  the  possible  exception  of 
Debussy.  The  realism  of  Richard  Strauss  approaches 
Nature  in  the  manner  of  the  Pastoral  with  greater  daring 
and  also  less  sympathy.  Dvorak’s  “  In  Der  Natur  ”  is 
more  an  ode  in  her  praise  than  a  representation  of  Nature. 
Mendelssohn  and  Berlioz  were  drawn  towards  her  by 
strange  rather  than  subtle  aspects.  In  Wagner  alone  we 
meet  a  feeling  of  awe,  of  mysticism,  an  insistence  on  the 
relation  between  the  moods  of  Nature  and  the  moods  of 
man.  As  a  dramatic  effect  the  sudden  opening  of  the 
door,  the  flood  of  moonlight  which  surprises  the  lovers  in 
Hunding’s  hut  has  no  parallel  in  opera.  Siegfried, 
Nature’s  child,  understands  the  language  of  birds  and 
waters.  Parsifal  bemoans  the  insensibility  of  nature  to 
the  sorrows  of  men.  It  is  never  a  question  of  simply 
portraying  Nature  in  music.  It  is  always  Nature  in 
regard  to  men — the  consummation  of  the  idea  implied  in 
the  “  Mehr  Ausdruck  der  Empfindung  Als  Malerei  ”  of 
Beethoven’s  Pastoral. 

As  a  critical  writer  Wagner  commands  attention  no  less 
than  as  a  musician,  not  because  of  unimpeachable  logic 
but  because  of  the  vastness  of  the  argument  and  of  the 
weighty  questions  raised.  He  was  too  much  of  a  pioneer 
to  rely  purely  on  reason .  He  trusted  to  instinct  first,  then 
he  attempted  to  justify  instinct  by  reasoning.  How  often 


238  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


his  instinct  was  right  is  shown  by  the  enormous  advance 
he  brought  about  in  the  technique  of  composition  as  in  the 
form  and  purpose  of  musical  drama.  He  broke  down  the 
conventionalities  of  the  previous  age.  He  substituted  for 
the  old  recitativo  a  device  of  the  utmost  dramatic  value. 
He  fixed  by  his  example  certain  rules  in  regard  to  the 
relation  of  music  to  words  and  the  construction  of  musical 
drama.  He  raised  the  orchestra  to  equal  rank  with  the 
singer.  He  is  the  originator  of  the  modern  art  of  conduct¬ 
ing.  Yet  his  writings  are  not  always  convincing.  When 
he  pleads  forcibly  for  the  union  of  music  and  poetry  he 
starts  on  the  initial  fallacy  that  both  arts  have  now  reached 
the  utmost  limit  of  their  development.  He  denies  that 
Jews  have  a  faculty  of  original  invention.  His 
“Walschen  Hunst  und  Walschen  Tand  ”  has  not  yet 
been  forgiven  him  by  the  most  brilliant  French  critic  of 
to-day.  Wagner  himself  reversed  the  order  in  which 
music  and  poetry  stood  in  the  preceding  century.  In 
Gluck’s  time  music  was  considered  the  handmaiden  of 
poetry,  Wagner  made  poetry  the  handmaiden  of  music. 
His  one  essay  in  philosophy  fails  to  be  convincing  since 
it  is  open  to  doubt  whether  such  a  philosophy  of  music 
can  be  said  to  exist  at  all.  But  when  he  is  deeply  moved, 
as  Nietzsche  said,  “  pages  escape  him  which  are  amongst 
the  most  beautiful  that  German  prose  possesses.”  What¬ 
ever  he  tells  us — be  the  subject  Beethoven  or  the  art  of 
conducting — has  a  note  of  unmistakable  authority  in  spite 
of  the  controversial  tone  which  probably  accounts  for  the 
hitter  polemics  which  once  raged  between  his  upholders  and 
his  opponents.  At  one  time  he  was  probably  the  most  abused 
man  in  Europe,  yet  before  the  turn  of  the  century  he  was 
acknowledged  by  every  civilised  community  as  the  most 
important  figure  in  the  music  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
His  innovations  carried  still  another  step  further  the 
reforms  of  Gluck.  Technically  they  were  not  more — 
if  not  less  important — than  those  of  Beethoven,  but 
Beethoven  did  not  possesss  the  literary  ability  and  the 


The  History  of  Music 


239 


deep-rooted  passion  of  Wagner  for  knowledge  as  well  as 
for  beauty  in  every  form. 

Of  the  small  band  wbicb  from  tbe  very  outset  understood 
and  upheld  tbe  genius  of  Wagner  no  one  has  a  better  right 
to  be  remembered  than  Franz  Liszt.  If  Wagner  had  the 
genius  for  devising  and  creating,  Liszt  had  the  genius 
for  penetrating  the  new  ideas.  Affable,  extremely  popular 
with  all  grades  of  society,  Liszt  offered  a  striking  contrast 
to  the  unknown  Wagner  of  the  early  days,  yet  in  Weimar, 
once  the  home  of  Goethe,  Schiller  and  Herder,  Liszt  laid 
the  foundation  of  Wagner’s  fame.  The  bond  between  them 
was  the  keen  interest  both  felt  in  the  future  development  of 
musical  art.  In  spite  of  Wagner’s  belief  that  music  had 
reached  its  utmost  possible  development  the  future  loomed 
very  large  in  the  eye  of  the  Weimar  group.  After  the 
memorable  first  performance  of  “  Lohengrin  ”  at  Weimar 
Wagner  was  urged  by  Liszt  to  “  create  a  new  work  that  we 
may  go  still  further.”  Thus,  founded  on  the  common 
passionate  longing  for  the  new,  sprang  up  a  friendship  in 
which  Wagner  was  the  leading  spirit.  Liszt,  however,  did 
not  stay  his  desire  for  novelty  as  Wagner  did  by  bringing 
music  in  contact  with  the  thought  of  his  time.  Equally 
sensitive  to  the  possibilities  of  the  opera  and  of  the  sym¬ 
phony,  he  imagined  a  third  form  which  partakes  of  the 
nature  of  both.  Like  the  symphony,  it  requires  no  actor  or 
stage;  like  the  opera,  it  is  founded  on  a  poetic  basis. 
Wagner  held  that  words  were  not  the  first  consideration 
in  musical  drama.  Liszt  suppressed  words  altogether  and 
gave  us  the  symphonic  poem.*  Bitterly  resented,  even  in 
our  own  day,  the  new  form  has  yet  found  considerable 
favour.  The  rules  of  the  symphonic  scheme  are  purely 
arbitrary  and  aim  at  securing  efficient  contrast.  If  the 
same  end  can  be  obtained  by  any  other  means,  it  becomes 
a  work  of  supererogation  to  insist  upon  their  universal 

*  Schumann’s  “Declamation,”  with  pianoforte  accompaniment,  was 
an  attempt  in  the  opposite  direction.  It  left  words  altogether  free,  and 
added  music  purely  as  a  corollary. 


240  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


application.  The  limitations  of  Liszt  are  of  a  very 
different  order.  It  is  not  the  supposed  lack  of  symmetry 
that  stands  in  the  way  of  greatness,  but  rather  the  singular 
cosmopolitan  character  of  Liszt’s  most  ambitious  work, 
the  lack  of  marked  individual  features,  the  very  catholicity 
of  the  composer’s  music,  the  fatal  ease  of  some  themes 
which  are  sometimes  more  like  a  brilliant  improvisation 
than  actual  composition.  Together  with  earnest  striving 
towards  high  ideals — the  subjects  of  his  symphonic  poems 
are  derived  from  unimpeachable  sources — there  went  a 
curious  indulgence  for  what  is  obviously  theatrical  and 
undistinguished.  Auber,  Meyerbeer,  Gounod,  Verdi,  were 
all  considered  worthy  of  supplying  the  background  for 
brilliant  pianoforte  pieces.  And  most  of  his  compositions 
bear  evidence  of  this  want  of  discrimination.  When  the 
subject  is  unambitious  as  in  the  Hungarian  Rhapsodies  he 
is  most  brilliantly  successful.  When  he  attempts  a  musical 
representation  of  the  Divine  Comedy  one  misses  the  direct¬ 
ness,  the  authority  of  the  great  individual  utterance.  That 
he  was  a  great  performer  we  have  on  Wagner’s  authority. 
And  he  wTas  much  more  than  a  great  pianist.  But  he  was 
a  little  less  than  a  great  composer. 

From  Liszt  it  is  but  a  step  to  the  other  great  German 
performers  of  the  nineteenth  century  who  alone  made  the 
new  music  possible. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  striking  features  of  the  wonderful 
renaissance  of  German  music  that  not  one  of  its  elements 
failed  at  the  time  when  it  was  needed.  As  the  centre 
of  gravity  was  shifted  from  the  singer  to  the  instru¬ 
mentalist  Germans  came  immediately  to  the  fore  as  per¬ 
formers.  Beethoven  and  Wagner  gave  new  life  to  the 
symphony  and  the  opera.  Spohr,  Ernst,  Joachim,  trained 
the  violinists  who  were  to  play  them.  At  the  same  time 
Schumann,  E.  A.  T.  Hoffman,  explained  and  popularised 
the  claims  of  music.  Historical  writers  like  Pohl,  Ambros 
and  Jahn  awakened  interest  in  the  past.  Biilow  and 
Richter  developed  the  art  of  the  conductor  on  the  lines 


The  History  of  Music 


241 


laid  down  by  Wagner.  There  is  not  one  branch  of  music 
in  which  the  Germans  did  not  assume  the  lead  to 
retain  to  the  present  day.  And  the  importance  of  the 
school  cannot  easily  be  overrated.  The  success  of  the 
Italians  before  Gluck  was  due  in  part  to  the  fact  that  they 
possessed  far  better  schools  than  any  other  nation.  Turin 
had  Giambattista  Somis,  Corelli  taught  in  Tome,  Yivaldi 
in  Venice,  Tartini  in  Padua.  To  Italy  once  went  the 
young  German  musicians  who  on  their  return  founded 
the  schools  in  which  a  Ilellmesberger,  a  Sarasate,  a 
J oachim  were  taught.  At  the  present  time  the  position  is 
reversed,  and  the  sometime  students  of  Berlin  and  Leipzig 
are  to  be  met  with  in  Italy  as  well  as  in  England  and 
France.  The  influence  of  Germany  is  paramount  in  every 
branch  of  music.  Grieg,  who  first  showed  us  the  charm  of 
the  Norwegian  folk-song,  Tubinstein,  Siloti,  owe  an  equal 
debt  to  German  teaching. 

Besides  eminent  composers  and  talented  teachers, 
Germany  possesses  an  admirable  system  of  organisation 
on  which  sooner  or  later  all  other  countries  must  model 
their  institutions.  The  concert  society  in  Germany  need 
not  be  a  flourishing  commercial  concern;  the  opera  house 
need  not  pay  a  handsome  dividend  to  its  directors.  Music 
is  not  expected  to  differ  from  painting  in  this  respect. 
The  Government,  which  pays  for  the  upkeep  of 
museums  and  picture  galleries,  endows  with  substantial 
sums  the  opera  house,  which  thus  offers  to  the  best  students 
of  the  Conservatorium  an  adequate  return  for  their  years 
of  training.  From  Spohr  to  Joachim,  from  Thalberg  to 
Billow  Germany  never  lacked  in  the  nineteenth  century 
teachers  as  authoritative  as  they  were  inspiring.  But  to 
the  commonsense  of  the  people  is  due  the  rapid  realisation 
that  no  art  can  prosper  which  has  scanty  and  uncertain 
opportunity  of  employment.  Controlled  by  a  responsible 
Government,  freed  from  the  anxiety  of  financial  under¬ 
takings,  the  opera  house  can  foster  the  love  of  good  music 
and  help  to  bring  to  light  the  latent  musical  qualities  of 


242  Germany  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 


the  nation.  Where  order  and  organisation  are  unknown 
much  most  valuable  material  must  he  lost.  With  subsi¬ 
dised  theatres,  well  equipped  schools,  generously  supported 
concert  societies  Germany  holds  to-day  the  position  of 
leader  and  arbiter  in  the  musical  world,  and  since  the 
world  has  acknowledged  her  just  claims  there  has  been 
no  further  question  of  “  Walschen  Dunst  und  Walschen 
Tand.”  Yerdi  found  admirers  in  Brahms  and  Weingartner. 
Sgambati,  Saint-Saens,  Elgar,  Delius,  found  appreciation 
in  Germany  sooner  than  amongst  their  own  countrymen. 

The  history  of  the  musical  development  of  the  nineteenth 
century  is  in  the  main  the  history  of  German  music.  When 
a  similar  movement  towards  freedom  and  a  new  order  began 
in  France,  in  Italy  and  later  in  England,  the  impulse  came 
from  Germany.  The  stimulus  of  Liszt  and  Wagner  called 
into  being  the  Bussian  School.  In  its  completeness,  in 
its  unparalleled  advance  on  any  previous  movement,  in  the 
rapidity  &nd  thoroughness  with  which  it  assailed  and  swept 
aside  the  ideals  of  the  preceding  century  this  period  of 
musical  history  bears  comparison  with  the  most  brilliant 
periods  of  painting  or  literature.  It  might  indeed  be  called 
the  golden  century  of  German  music  were  it  not  that  sure 
signs  are  at  hand  to  prove  that  its  glory  has  not  grown 
dim  with  the  closing  of  the  hundred  years.  Bichard 
Strauss,  Mahler,  Beger,  Humperdinck  began  their  work 
before  the  turn  of  the  century,  giving  music  yet  greater 
power  and  a  richer  complexity.  But  they  belong  essen¬ 
tially  to  the  opening  years  of  the  following  century.  A 
historical  survey  of  their  work  can  hardly  be  attempted  as 
yet,  in  the  first  place  because  in  some  cases  it  has  not 
yet  reached  completion,  and  moreover  the  bewildering 
rapidity  with  which  these  men  move  implies  constant 
readjustment  of  the  critical  apparatus.  Individuality 
and  technical  progress  are  essential  to-day  to  success 
in  musical  composition.  It  is  hence  natural  that 
appreciation,  critical  or  historical,  should  oscillate  longer 
to-day  than  in  the  past. 


INDEX. 


Ach,  N.  214. 

Act,  content,  object  (Meinong  and  others).  210.  Also  under  head 
Metaphysics. 

Act. 

Education  Act  (England)  1870.  103. 

,,  ,,  (Scotland)  1872.  103-4. 

Industrial  ,,  (Australia).  96. 

Acts  of  the  Apostles.  15 1,  153!’,  156. 

Acton,  J.  E.  E.  D.,  Baron.  56n. 

Aesthetics.  29,  59,  70,  71. 

Africa,  Germans  and  English  in.  19,  20. 

Agreement,  Anglo-German,  of  1890.  20. 

Agriculture.  81,  83,  84,  85,  86,  88,  92,  93,  95,  97. 

Albert,  Prince-Consort  of  England.  123. 

Alliance,  between  France  and  Russia,  1795.  21. 

Dual,  ,,  „  ,,  „  1895.  18,  19,  22. 

Triple,  between  Germany,  Austria  and  Italy,  1882.  18,  19. 

America,  influence  of,  on  English  education.  124. 

Apologetic.  173. 

Apostles.  148,  1 53f,  176,  183. 

Army,  Grand,  of  Napoleon  I.  8. 

Prussian.  12,  13,  123. 

Arnold,  Matthew.  36,  38,  123. 

Art.  59,  69,  71. 

State  Department  of  Art  and  Science.  123. 

Artisans,  English.  116. 

“  As  if  ”  ;  in  Kant.  201. 

in  Vaihinger.  20m. 

philosophy  of  the  (Vaihinger).  203ff. 

in  Lange.  202. 

Astruc,  J.  158-160. 

Auber,  D.  F.  E.  240. 

Auerbach,  Berthold.  50,  70. 

Australia,  effect  of  Industrial  Act  of.  96. 

Austria.  4,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12,  13,  14,  15,  18,  19,  123. 

joins  with  Prussia  against  revolutionary  France.  4. 

,,  ,,  ,,  and  Russia  against  revolutionary  France.  8. 

and  the  German  Confederation.  9. 

,,  ,,  German  Zollverein.  10. 

,,  ,,  Convention  of  Olmiitz.  11. 

,,  ,,  Schleswig-Holstein  question.  11-13. 

defeat  of,  in  Italy.  11.  and  in  Bohemia.  12,  123. 


Q 


244 


Index 


Austria  and  Napoleon  III.  14. 

,,  the  Franco-Prussian  war  of  1870.  15. 

,,  the  Triple  Alliance  of  1882.  19. 

Austrian  musicians.  221. 

Austrian  thought,  its  effect  on  German  philosophy.  187. 

Authority.  139. 

Avenarius,  R.  205. 

his  “  pure  experience.”  2o6fif. 

“  full  experience.”  207. 
his  view  of  psychology.  207. 
empirio-criticism.  208. 

Babylonia  and  Israel.  164. 

Bach,  J.  S.  219,  229. 

Baden.  86,  106. 

Baetentsch,  B.  164. 

Baethgen,  F.  W.  A.  164. 

Bage,  Robert.  28n. 

Bain,  A.,  influence  of.  i98f. 

Balance  of  power  in  Europe,  the.  18,  22. 

Banks.  89,  90. 

Baudissin,  W.  W.  164. 

Baur,  F.  C.  135L,  138,  143,  145,  150-157,  171. 

Bavaria.  8,  10,  14,  86,  89,  106. 

makes  treaty  with  Austria,  1813.  8. 

and  the  first  German  Zollverein.  10,  86. 
comes  to  an  understanding  with  Prussia.  14. 
joint-stock  companies  in.  89. 
education  in.  106. 

Bechuanaland.  20. 

Beethoven,  Ludwig  van.  219,  220,  221,  222,  223,  229,  231,  233, 
238,  240. 

and  the  symphony.  221,  227,  231. 

character  and  temperament.  223. 

earliest  compositions.  224. 

his  treatment  of  melody.  225. 

the  C.  Minor  Symphony.  225. 

the  change  in  his  style.  224. 

the  Eroica  Symphony.  224,  225. 

the  Funeral  March.  225. 

the  Missa  Solemnis.  223. 

the  Ninth  Symphony.  223,  226,  227. 

the  Pastoral  Symphony.  226,  233,  237. 

Violin  Concerto.  23  m. 


Index 


245 


Belgium.  18. 

Bentham,  Jeremy.  28 n,  32. 

Bentley,  Richard.  30. 

Bergson  compared  with  Vaihinger.  204. 

Berlin.  5,  6,  9,  14,  15,  17,  19,  20,  125. 

University  of.  109. 

Berlioz,  H.  226,  227,  228,  230,  237. 

Bertholet,  A.  164. 

Bible,  the.  142,  144,  176-178,  183. 
study  of  the.  28,  3on,  41. 

Biedermann,  A.  E.  168. 

Biology.  41,  58m 

Bismarck,  Otto  Eduard  Leopold  von,  Prince.  12,  14,  15,  t6,  19, 
22,  37,  65,  75,  76,  92,  94. 
incites  Napoleon  III  against  Austria.  12. 
and  the  Franco-Prussian  War.  14-16. 
at  the  Congress  of  Berlin,  1878.  19. 

his  work  in  unifying  Germany.  22. 
and  the  state  of  Prussia  after  the  war.  92. 
economic  policy  of.  94. 
defects  of  the  Bismarckian  state.  76. 

Bjornson,  Bjornstjerne.  49. 

Bleek,  F.  158. 

Boeckh,  August.  39,  63. 

Bohemians,  the,  and  Austria.  11. 

Bonn,  University  of.  109. 

Bopp,  Franz.  45. 

Bosanquet,  Bernard.  56 n,  59. 

Bourbons,  fall  of  the.  6371. 

Bousset,  W.  158. 

Bradley,  Andrew  Cecil.  59. 

Brahms,  J.  221,  229,  230,  231,  242. 
and  the  symphony.  231. 
his  Ernste  Gesange.  231. 

Hungarian  dance  music.  231 

Bremen.  8, 

Breslau,  University  of.  109. 

Brest.  22. 

Bretschneider,  C.  G.  144. 

Britain,  Great.  22,  103,  104,  106,  125. 

Brooke,  Henry.  28m 

Brougham,  Henry  Peter,  Baron.  123. 

Brown,  W.  Adams.  137. 

Brunswick.  9,  87. 


246 


Index 


Buckle,  Henry  Thomas.  27 n,  68-69. 

Buffon,  G.  L.  L.  196. 

Biihler,  K.  214. 

Biilow.  240,  241. 

Burckhardt,  Jakob.  68-69. 

Burger,  Gottfried  August.  30. 

Burke,  Edmund.  28  and  n.,  29,  57. 

Cambridge  University  of.  116. 

Campaigns.  See  wars. 

Canals.  96. 

Capital.  85,  86,  89,  90,  98. 

Carlyle,  Thomas.  38,  65,  72-73,  123. 

“  Teufelsdrockh.”  6. 

Cassirer,  E.  Function  and  substance.  2o8ff. 
relation  to  metaphysics.  208,  209. 
relation  to  Russell.  209f. 

Catholic  Church,  154,  156E 
Catholicism.  176,  18 1  f. 

Cavour,  Camillo  Benso,  Count.  12. 

Cervantes,  Saavedra  Miguel  de.  51. 

Chalcedon,  Formula  of.  173. 

Character-training  in  education.  120,  126. 

Charlemagne.  5,  6. 

Chateaubriand,  Francois  Ren6,  Vicomte  de.  28. 

Chemistry.  41. 

Cherbourg.  22. 

Chopin,  Frederic  Frangois.  230. 

Christ.  140,  142,  144-149,  157,  i73'i8i>  l83f- 

Christianity.  134,  138-140,  143k,  146,  167,  173E,  176-179,  184. 

Christology.  146,  168,  178. 

Chronicles,  Book  of.  159. 

Church,  the.  175,  182. 

domains  of.  See  States,  ecclesiastical. 

Cities,  the  German  free.  8. 

Civil  service,  the  German.  118. 

Classes, 

upper.  120. 
middle.  118,  119,  120. 
working.  113. 

continuation  and  evening  classes.  12 1. 

Clementine  Homilies.  153,  156. 

Coal.  88. 

Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor.  28n,  30,  122,  123. 

Colleges,  training  of  teachers,  no,  in,  116,  12 1. 


Index 


247 


Colonies  and  colonisation  of  Germany.  19,  127. 

Colossians,  Epistle  to  the.  155. 

Commerce.  21,  22,  118,  122. 

Committee  on  intermediate  education  in  Wales,  report  of,  1881.  116. 
Community.  141,  174-177. 

Companies, 

insurance.  90. 
joint-stock.  89. 

Comparative  Religion.  174. 

Comtism.  198. 

Concert  society,  the,  in  Germany.  241. 

Condorcet,  Marie  Jean.  56. 

Confederation, 

the  North  German.  14,  15,  17. 
the,  of  the  Rhine.  5. 

Confessionalists,  the.  167. 

Congress  of  Berlin,  1878.  19. 

Consciousness,  the  Christian.  139-141,  175. 

Constitution  of  the  German  empire.  17. 

Copernicus,  Nicolaus.  29. 

Corinthians,  Epistles  to  the.  153,  155. 

Cornill,  C.  H.  164. 

Council,  GEcumenical,  at  Rome,  1870.  15. 

Court  patronage,  its  influence  on  music.  220,  222. 

Critical  (idealistic)  positivism,  realism,  idealism.  202. 

Criticism.  144-153,  183. 

and  the  “critical  attitude.”  197k 
literary.  71. 
musical.  229,  230. 

Cross,  the.  149. 

Cumberland,  Ernest  Augustus,  Duke  of.  10. 

Customs’  Union  of  Germany.  See  Zollverein. 

Cuvier,  Georges,  Leopold,  63. 

Darwin,  Charles,  reception  of  his  work  in  Germany.  55-56. 

Erasmus.  197. 

Debussy,  Claude.  237. 

Deissmann,  A.  158. 

Delitzsch,  Franz.  163. 

Democracy  and  democratic  movements.  4,  10-11,  15,  41,  76,  118. 
Denmark.  11,  12,  13. 

Dependence.  135,  139. 

Descartes,  Ren6.  31. 

Deuteronomy,  Book  of.  159. 


248 


Index 


De  Wette,  W.  M.  L.  159. 

Dialect  poetry.  50. 

Diez,  Friedrich  Christian.  44 n. 

Dillmann,  A.  161. 

Dilthey,  Wilhelm.  7m. 

Divinity  of  Christ.  173. 

Dogma.  i34f.,  139,  142,  i6sf.,  175-178,  183. 

Dorner,  I.  A.  168. 

Dostojevsky,  Feodor  Mikhailovich.  70. 

Dover.  22. 

Drama,  the.  48. 

Dramatic  action  and  music.  233,  234. 

Driesch,  H.  213. 

Droysen,  Johann  Gustav.  66. 

Dual  alliance.  See  Alliance. 

Du  Bois  Reymond,  Emil.  58 n. 

Duhm,  B.  160,  162. 

Dvordk,  A.  237. 

East,  question  of  the.  19. 

Ecclesiastical  states.  See  States,  ecclesiastical. 
Eckermann,  Johann  Peter.  38n,  397*. 

Economics,  study  of.  41-42. 

Edgeworth,  Maria.  115. 

Richard  Lovell.  115. 

Education.  7,  87,  98,  101-127. 

Act,  of  1870  (England).  103. 

,,  ,,  1872  (Scotland).  103-4. 

bill  of  1807.  103. 

Board  of.  124. 

committee  of  council  on.  103. 

,,  on  intermediate,  Wales.  116. 
compulsory.  107,  112,  116,  117,  123. 
elementary,  no,  hi,  115,  116,  120,  121,  123. 
endowments.  116. 
philosophy  of.  125. 

secondary.  104,  109,  no,  118,  120,  121,  123,  124. 
scientific.  122. 

technical,  no,  in,  116,  118,  121,  123,  125. 
university.  118. 

Ehrenfels,  Chr.  (value-philosophy).  214. 

Eichendorf,  Joseph,  Freiherr  von.  43. 

Eichhorn,  Karl  Friedrich.  29,  63. 

Eichhorn,  J.  G.  158. 


Index 


249 


Elbe  duchies,  the.  n. 

Elgar,  Sir  Edward.  242. 

Elsass-Lothringen.  16. 

Emotion.  See  Feeling. 

Empire, 

the  Austrian.  10,  18. 
the  British.  20. 
the  French.  8. 

the  German.  n,  16,  17,  18,  20,  93,  103,  105,  106. 
the  Holy  Roman.  4,  5,  8,  9. 

Empirio-criticism  (Avenarius).  208. 

Encyclopaedists,  the.  56,  58. 

England.  10,  13,  19,  21,  22,  26,  27,  28,  29,  32,  43,  47,  48,  57,  68, 
84,  87,  90,  93,  94,  95,  97,  98,  106,  1 13,  ii*,  115-118,  1 19, 
120,  121-123. 

severance  from  Hanover  of.  10. 

and  the  Schleswig-Holstein  question.  13. 

Bismarck  and.  19. 

place  of,  in  literature  of  the  18th  century.  27. 
peasantry  of.  84. 

economic  position  of.  87,  90,  93,  97,  98. 
educational  tradition  of.  106. 
education  in.  113-118,  122-125. 

,,  of,  compared  with  that  of  Germany.  125-126. 

,,  German  influence  on.  122-125. 
influence  of,  on  German  education.  126. 
and  German  music.  242. 

See  also  Britain,  Great. 

Ephesians,  Epistle  to  the.  156. 

Epistemology.  See  under  Metaphysics. 

Epistles.  176. 

Ernest  the  Pious,  Duke  of  Gotha.  107. 

Eschatology,  Radical.  183F 
Eschenbach,  Wolfram  von.  72. 

Eug6nie,  Empress  of  the  French.  14,  15. 

Evolution,  theory  of.  58,  63. 

Ewald,  H.  i6of. 

Examinations,  school,  no,  112. 

Exodus,  Book  of.  158. 

Experience,  “  full  ”  (Avenarius).  207. 

“  pure  ”  (Avenarius).  203,  206,  207. 

Exports.  88,  97. 

Eylau,  battle  of.  26. 


250 


Index 


Factory  organisation.  87,  88,  92. 

Fechner,  Gustav  Theodor.  28-29«.,  29,  189. 

Feeling.  135!.,  139,  142,  180. 

Fellowship  with  God.  139,  i8of. 

Festus.  18 1. 

Feuerbach,  L.  i66f. 

Fichte,  Johann  Gottlieb.  63,  72,  73,  74,  76,  104,  105,  106,  107,  109, 
124,  188,  190,  191,  193,  194,  195,  199,  212. 

“  Addresses  to  the  German  nation.”  74. 
doctrine  of  knowledge.  194. 

lectures  on  Characteristics  of  the  Present  Age.  104. 
and  education.  106,  107,  109,  122,  124. 

Fictions,  Vaihinger’s  treatment  of.  203ff. 

Fielding,  Henry.  55,  70. 

Finance.  89-90 
First  Gospel.  148,  152. 

Fischer,  Kuno.  68. 

Fisher,  H.  A.  L.  6 n. 

Flaubert,  Gustave.  70. 

Florence.  14. 

Folk  lore  and  songs.  43,  44,  46,  47,  70,  220,  222,  231. 

Folk  song,  Brahms’  use  of.  231. 

Brahms’  use  of.  231. 

Forgiveness.  175,  177,  180. 

Forster,  William  Edward.  103. 

Fouqu6,  F.  H.  K.  de  la  Motte,  Baron.  49. 

Fourth  Gospel.  140,  144,  148,  151-154,  156,  183. 

France.  4,  9,  13,  14,  15,  19,  21,  22,  26,  27,  2S,  32,  43,  46,  48, 
49 n>  57.  61,  68,  91,  125. 

Revolutionary.  4. 

on  the  eve  of  the  Franco-Prussian  war  of  1870.  14. 

and  the  Dual  Alliance  of  1894.  19,  22. 

France,  advantages  of,  compared  with  Germany  for  attack  on 
England.  21. 

effect  of  German  music  on.  242. 
intellectual  hegemony  held  by.  27. 
political  thought  in.  28. 
popularity  of  Hoffmann  in.  49m 
war  indemnity  paid  by.  91. 
education  in.  125. 

Francis  II,  Roman  Emperor,  afterwards  Emperor  of  Austria. 

4.  5>  6-7. 

Frank,  F.  H.  R.  168,  172,  182. 

Frankfurt-am-Main.  8,  11,  6 jn,  87,  125. 


Index 


251 


Frederick  the  Great,  King  of  Prussia.  7,  65,  83. 

Frederick  William  III,  King  of  Prussia.  7,  8,  9. 

Frederick  William  IV,  King  of  Prussia.  11,  no. 

Freeman,  Edward  Augustus.  4-5. 

Free  cities.  See  cities. 

Freytag,  Gustav.  64-65. 

Froebel,  F.  W.  A.  124. 

Galatians,  Epistle  to  the.  153. 

Games,  school.  126. 

Geddes,  A.  158E 
Genesis,  Book  of.  158. 

Gentz,  Friedrich  von.  28n. 

Geography  of  Germany.  21,  22. 

George  III,  King  of  England.  17. 

George  Eliot.  167 

German  Government  and  music.  241. 
influence  on  music.  241. 

philosophy,  state  of,  at  beginning  of  nineteenth  century.  188. 
music,  its  debt  to  Beethoven.  227. 

Gesenius,  W.  164. 

Gibbon,  Edward.  28,  29  and  n.,  31. 

Gierke,  Otto  68. 

Giesebrecht,  F.  164. 

Girls,  education  of.  112,  113,  117,  12 1,  122 
Gluck,  C.  W.  219,  221,  235 n.,  238,  241. 

Gnosticism.  153. 

God,  Personality  of.  136,  143. 

Goethe,  Johann  Wolfgang  von.  5,  30  and  n.,  32-37,  38m,  39  and  n., 
43.  47*  5°>  63«-,  65,  67,  68,  70,  72,  76,  191,  193,  196,  197. 
his  hopes  of  Napoleon  I.  5. 
review  of  R.  Wood’s  essay.  3on. 

“  Wilhelm  Meisters  Lehrjahre.  ”  35,  70. 

“Faust.”  5,36. 

“Hermann  and  Dorothea.”  67. 
his  opinion  of  F.  A.  Wolf.  39  and  n. 

Gold,  discovery  of.  89. 

coinage  of.  91. 

Gooch,  G.  P.  56n. 

Gospel,  the.  154,  175-178. 

Gospels,  the.  146,  148,  15 if. ,  i56f.,  176. 

Gotha.  107. 

Gottingen,  University  of.  108. 

Gounod,  C.  240. 


252 


Index 


Graf,  K.  H.  160,  163. 

Grafian  theory,  the,  159-162. 

Greek  mysteries.  183. 

philosophy.  176k,  183. 

study  and  philosophy.  30  and  n.,  34m,  39,  57,  68,  109,  no. 
Green,  T.  H.,  referred  to.  209n.,  215. 

Gregorovius,  Ferdinand.  67-68. 

Grieg,  Edward,  his  debt  to  German  music.  241. 

Grillparzer,  Franz.  48. 

Grimm,  Jacob.  44  and  n.,  45,  46,  49,  62,  63. 

Wilhelm.  45,  49. 

Groth,  Klaus.  50. 

Gunkel,  H.  164. 

Halle,  University  of.  108. 

Haller,  Albrecht  von,  Baron.  33 n. 

Hamburg.  8. 

Handwork.  87. 

Hanover.  10,  87,  108. 

Hapsburg,  House  of.  3,  6,  9. 

Hardenberg,  K.  A.  von,  Prince.  86. 

Harnack,  A.  169k,  175. 

Hartmann,  E.  von.  I95n. 

Hasse,  Ernst.  81. 

Haupt,  E.  158. 

Hauptmann,  Gerhart.  50,  70. 

Haydn,  Joseph.  220,  221,  222. 

his  influence  on  Beethoven.  222. 

Hebbel,  Christian  Friedrich.  48. 

Hebei,  Johann  Peter.  50. 

Hebrews,  Epistle  to  the.  183. 

Hegel,  Georg  Wilhelm  Friedrich.  28-29 n-»  32»  4U  58,  59,  65,  73, 
190. 

his  dialectic.  i94ff. 

,,  ,,  criticisms  of  it.  i95n. 

Hegelianism.  144k,  154k,  159k,  165k,  168,  170. 

Hehn,  Viktor.  7 in. 

Heidelberg.  67. 

Heilbronn.  67. 

Heine,  Heinrich.  38,  47,  50. 

Hellenic  studies.  See  Greek. 

Hellmesberger.  241. 

Helmholtz,  H.  L.  F.  von.  34 n. 

Hengstenberg,  E.  W.  168. 


Index 


253 


Herbart,  Johann  Friedrich.  124,  199,  200,  206. 

Herder,  Johann  Gottfried  von.  30  and  n.,  31,  44,  45. 
Herford,  C.  H.  13 1. 

Herrmann,  J.  G.  i6gf.,  181. 

Hesse-Cassel.  9. 

Hesse-Darmstadt.  10,  14. 

Hesse-Nassau.  87. 

Heyse,  Paul.  70-71. 

Hilgenfeld,  A.  157,  171. 

Historians.  29,  31,  32,  66. 

History  and  historic  study.  29,  40,  62,  63,  76. 

in  relation  to  theology.  139,  142-144. 

Hitzig,  F.  160,  163. 

Hobbes,  Thomas.  25. 

Hoffding,  Harald.  4m.,  60. 

Hoffmann,  E.  A.  T.  240. 

E.  T.  W.  49  and  n. 

Hofmann,  J.  C.  C.  168,  171. 

Hohenzollern,  House  of.  3,  4,  7,  9,  17,  22. 

Holsten,  K.  J.  157. 

Holzinger,  H.  164. 

Holtzmann,  H.  J.  157. 

Home-industry.  87,  92. 

Homer  and  Homeric  study.  28,  30  and  n. 

Hugo,  Gustav  von.  29m 
Victor.  47. 

Humboldt,  Wilhelm  von.  63,  109,  122. 

Hume,  David.  22,  27m,  28,  29,  31. 

Hungarians,  the,  and  Austria.  11. 

Hupfeld,  H.  159L 

Husserl,  Ed.  195,  19871.,  199W.,  202 n.,  2o6n.,  2ioff.,  2i2«. 
his  phenomenology.  21 1. 

,,  a  priori  truth.  21 1. 

,,  relation  to  metaphysics.  21  if. 

„  view  of  physical  thing.  211. 

,,  criticism  of  Mill’s  psychologism.  19811. 

Huxley,  Thomas.  58. 

Hygiene,  school.  124. 

Ideal,  the  Kantian  view  of.  201. 

Idealism,  critical.  202,  208 
Ilgen,  C.  D.  158,  160. 

Illumination  Theology.  184. 

Immortality.  143. 


254 


Index 


Imports.  89,  92,  97. 

Incarnation.  146. 

Indian  lore.  45. 

Individualism.  118. 

Industry.  81,  82,  84,  85,  87,  88,  89,  90,  91,  93-95,  98-99,  118, 
122,  124. 

Inspection,  medical,  of  school-children.  117,  124 
Inspiration.  176. 

Institutions,  study  of  primitive.  44. 

Insurance  companies.  See  companies. 

Intelligence,  Fichte’s  account.  194. 

Introjection,  fallacy  of,  2o6f. 

Intuition,  religious.  136-138. 

Ireland.  103,  106,  1 15,  116. 
education  in.  115,  116. 

Irish  Nationalist  Party.  116. 

Iron  trade  and  industry.  90,  92,  96. 

Irony  in  German  literature.  38. 

Isaiah,  Book  of.  162. 

Italian  opera.  221,  231  and  n. 

Italians  and  the  worship  of  melody.  231. 

Italy.  12,  13,  14,  15,  19,  27. 

Jena.  125. 

battle  of,  7,  26,  74. 

John,  Gospel  of.  See  Fourth  Gospel. 

Joint-stock  companies.  See  companies. 

Josiah.  159,  162. 

Judaising  Christianity.  154. 

Judaism.  1 56f. 

Judgments  of  Value.  i72f. 

Jiilicher,  A.  158. 

Jungrammatiker,  school  of.  42^. 

Justification.  175,  i78f. 

Kaftan,  J.  ifigf.,  172. 

Kalischer,  Salomon.  3411. 

Kant,  Immanuel.  28-29n.,  20  and  n.,  31,  71,  108,  109.  134,  144, 

171,  184,  189,  191,  195,  196,  199,  200,  201,  206,  208,  212. 
See  post-Kantian,  neo-Kantian,  Post-neo-Kantian. 
Kattenbusch,  F.  W.  F.  i68f.,  175. 

Kautzsch,  E.  F.  164. 

Keil,  C.  F.  163. 

Keller,  Gottfried.  50-52,  55,  70. 


Index 


255 


Kenotic  Christology.  168. 

Kerschensteiner,  Georg  Michael.  124. 
Kindergarten.  See  schools. 

Kingdom  of  God.  179b,  183L 
Kleist,  B.  H.  W.  von.  49. 

Klostermann,  A.  H.  164. 

Knights,  imperial.  8. 

Knowledge.  172. 

Konig,  E.  164. 

Koniggratz,  battle  of,  13. 

Kuenen,  A.  160. 

Kiilpe,  O.  199W.,  205 n.,  21m.,  213  and  n. 
view  of  metaphysic.  213. 

Labour.  84,  85,  86,  96,  99. 

Lachmann,  Karl.  45. 

Lagarde,  P.  A.  163. 

Lamarck.  197. 

Lamprecht,  Karl.  72. 

Land-question,  the.  84,  86. 

Lange,  A.,  history  of  materialism.  198 n. 

psychology  without  soul.  202,  20 7. 

Lange,  Friedrich.  75. 

Language,  science  of.  41-42,  64. 

teaching  of  modern.  124. 

Law,  the.  154. 

study  of.  3,  29,  63,  64,  66,  108. 

Latin,  study  of.  no. 

Lebrun,  — ,  French  general.  14. 

Leger,  Louis.  5 n. 

Legouis,  Emile.  32  and  n. 

Leibniz,  Gottfried  Wilhelm.  56,  72. 

Leipzig,  battle  of.  8. 

Lett  motif,  the.  234. 

Leo  III,  Pope.  5. 

Leskien,  August.  42*1. 

Lessing,  Gotthold  Ephraim.  27,  29,  37,  38*1.,  56. 
Liberal  Theologians.  167. 

Libretti  and  the  opera.  234-5,  235n- 
Liebmann,  Otto,  “  back  to  Kant.”  199L 
his  view  of  Herbart.  199k 
,,  ,,  of  Hegel.  200. 

Lipps,  Th.,  Aesthetic.  214. 

Lipsius,  R.  A.  137,  157,  168,  177. 


256 


Index 


Liszt,  Franz.  220,  239,  240,  242. 

Local  authorities  and  government.  116,  117,  1 
Locke,  John.  27. 

Logic.  32. 

London.  46n. ,  49. 

Lorraine.  16. 

Lotze,  H.  171,  189,  208. 

Louis  XIII,  King  of  France.  16. 

XIV,  ,,  ,,  27* 

Louisa,  Queen  of  Prussia.  7. 

Love.  i8of. 

Lowe,  Charles,  nn.,  17 n. 

Lowth,  Robert.  28,  30  and  n. 

Liibeck.  8. 

Lucke,  G.  C.  F.  158. 

Luke,  Gospel  of.  171. 

Luther,  Martin.  37,  46,  65,  72,  122. 

Lyric  poetry.  46,  47,  48. 

Mach,  E.  202,  205. 

Mackintosh,  R.  13 1. 

Maitland,  F.  W.  68n. 

Malthus,  Thomas  Robert.  28n. 

Manor,  the  German.  83. 

Manufacture.  82,  90,  92. 

Marburg.  125. 

Marburg  School,  the.  201,  206,  208,  213. 

relation  to  Hegel,  206,  213. 

Marcion,  Gospel  of.  170L 

Marie  Louise,  Empress  of  the  French.  7. 

Mark,  Gospel  of,  154,  156. 

Marlborough,  John  Churchill,  Duke  of.  27. 
Marschner,  H.  219,  23311. 

Marti,  K.  164. 

Martineau,  J.  143. 

Materialism.  75. 

Mathematics.  57,  58. 

Matthew,  Gospel  of.  See  First  Gospel. 
Mayer,  Robert.  41  and  n. 

Mediating  Theologians.  167. 

Medical  inspection  of  schools.  See  inspection. 
Mechanics.  57. 

Mecklenburg.  87. 

Meinong,  A.  2  ion. 


Index 


257 


Melanchthon.  141. 

Melody.  231. 

Mendelssohn,  Moses.  29. 

Mendelssohn-Bartholdy,  Felix.  219,  226,  228,  229,  237. 
his  temperament.  228. 
the  decline  in  his  popularity.  228. 
the  Hebrides  overture.  229. 

Midsummer  Night’s  Dream.  228. 

Meredith,  George.  50. 

Merz,  John  Theodore.  58n. 

Messiah.  147-149. 

Messianic  ideas.  i48f. 

prophecies.  148. 

Metaphysics.  66,  75. 

and  Epistemology.  192,  200,  208,  210,  212,  214. 
inductive.  202 n.,  213. 

Metternich-Winneburg,  C.  W.  L.,  Prince.  7,  9,  10. 
Meyer,  H.  A.  W.  158. 

Richard  M.  66 n. 

Meyerbeer,  G.  230,  240. 

Schumann’s  criticism  of.  230. 

Michaelis,  Johann  David.  3on. 

Michelet,  Jules.  40. 

Miklosich,  Franz.  44*1. 

Mill,  J.  S.,  influence  of.  I98f. 

his  psychologism  criticised  by  Husserl.  198 n. 
his  use  of  word  evidence.  1 98f. 

Milton.  234. 

Minerals  and  mining.  88,  90,  92,  93,  97. 

Miracles.  140,  147k 

Moli&re,  J.  B.  Poquelin  de.  48. 

Moltke,  H.  C.  B.,  Count  von.  12. 

Mommsen,  Theodor.  66-67. 

Monism,  critical  (Riehl).  205. 

Montesquieu,  C.  de  S.,  Baron.  29,  57,  6311. 

Morality.  142,  179. 

Moravians,  the.  122.  133,  135. 

Morike,  Eduard  Friedrich.  43  and  n. 

Moses.  158. 

Mozart,  Wolfgang.  220,  221,  222,  227,  232. 
Mullenhoff,  Karl.  45. 

Muller,  Johannes.  58. 

Munich.  125. 

University  of.  109. 


258 


Index 


Municipal  self-government.  See  towns. 

Music  and  philosophy.  238. 
and  history.  242. 
and  poetry.  238. 

Musical  criticism,  229,  230. 

Mysticism.  172,  181. 

Mythical  Theory.  147. 

Mythology.  41,  44,  45. 

Napoleon  I,  Emperor  of  the  French.  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  16,  63. 
as  leader  of  Germany.  5-6. 

Continental  System  of.  6. 

marriage  of,  with  Austrian  Princess.  7. 

Prussia  rises  against.  8. 
overthrow  of.  8. 

Napoleon  III,  Emperor  of  the  French.  12,  13,  14. 

Natorp,  P.  (Marburg  School).  20m.,  210 «.,  213m 
Natural  Religion.  134,  138,  144,  173. 

Naturalistic  Theory.  147. 

Nature  and  music.  233. 

Nature,  study  of.  58. 

Navy,  German.  19. 

British.  21. 

Neander,  A.  132,  168. 

Nelson,  L.  i92n,  214. 

Neo-Kantian  movement.  188,  i98ff. 

general  epistemological  character.  200. 
contrast  with  post-Kantian  thought.  201. 

New  Testament.  143,  175-178,  182. 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac.  27,  31,  33-34 n. 

Nicholas  II,  Emperor  of  Russia.  19. 

Niebuhr,  Barthold  Georg.  29,  34m,  39,  62. 

Nietzsche,  Friedrich  Wilhelm.  73,  75,  76,  167,  198,  203,  214. 
Nitzsch,  C.  E.  167. 

Noldeke,  T.  16 1. 

North  German  Confederation.  See  Confederation. 

Norway.  49. 

Novel,  the.  49,  70. 

Nowack,  W.  164. 

Oken,  Lorenz.  34 n. 

Old  Testament.  143,  148,  158-165,  176-178,  183. 

Olmiitz,  Convention  of.  11. 

Oncken,  W.  19*1. 

Ontology  of  the  present  day.  213*1. 
pre-Kantian.  213*1. 


Index 


259 


Opera,  the.  230,  232,  241. 

Orchestra,  the.  234,  238. 

Orthodoxy.  134b 
Oxford,  University  of.  116. 

Palmerston,  H.  J.  T.,  Viscount.  13. 
Pantheism.  136,  139,  143,  168. 

Paris.  5,  6,  49. 

Pastoral  Epistles.  153. 

Paul.  153-157,  181,  183. 

Paul,  Hermann.  42 «.,  44n.,  63n. 

Jean.  See  Richter,  J.  P. 

Pauline  Epistles.  15 1,  154,  183. 

Paulsen,  F.,  debt  to.  189. 

Paulus,  H.  E.  G.  147. 

Peace  of  1814-15.  9. 

Peasants.  50,  83,  84. 

Penitence.  181. 

Pentateuch,  the.  158-163. 

Percy,  Thomas.  30,  31. 

Pergolesi’s  “  La  Serva  Padrona.  ”  232. 

Pestalozzi,  Johann  Heinrich.  107,  109,  no. 
Pfleiderer,  O.  157,  168,  182. 

Philology.  41,  44-45,  no. 

Philosophy.  31-32,  58,  68,  108,  no. 

and  theology.  131,  144-146,  172,  177,  182. 
of  As  If.  20m.,  203. 

Physics.  41,  58. 

Physiology.  58. 

Pietism.  172,  i8if. 

Pietists.  122,  134. 

Plato.  133,  144,  209n. 

Platonism.  133,  140. 

Playfair,  Lyon,  Baron.  123. 

Plymouth.  22. 

Poetry.  30,  31,  32,  35,  43-45,  66. 

Poetry  and  music.  238. 

Poland.  9. 

Political  events  first  reflected  in  music.  225. 
Polyphony.  219,  231. 

Population.  19,  87,  88,  97. 

Porson,  Richard.  30. 

Portsmouth.  22. 

Posen.  9. 

R 


260 


Index 


Positivism,  critical  or  idealistic  (Mach).  202. 

Post-Kantian  movement.  188. 

its  essential  character.  19 iff. 

,,  relation  to  metaphysic  and  epistemology.  192. 

,,  sources.  196. 

,,  philosophy  of  nature.  196. 

,,  loss  of  power.  198. 

Post-neo-Kantian  movement.  188,  205ff. 

its  general  character.  206. 

Pragmatism.  203. 

Pre-existence  of  Christ.  178. 

Presuppositions.  174. 

Priestly  Document.  160-162. 

Propitiation.  180. 

Protection.  95. 

Protestantism.  176k,  18 1. 

Prussia.  4.  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12,  13,  14,  15,  65,  83,  86,  105,  106, 
107,  108,  no,  in. 

joins  with  Austria  against  France.  4. 
acts  with  France  and  Napoleon  I.  4. 
reforms  in.  7,  86. 
helps  to  overthrow  Napoleon  I.  8. 
position  of,  after  the  Napoleonic  war.  9. 
and  the  first  Zollverein.  10. 

,,  ,,  Convention  of  Olmiitz.  n. 

,,  ,,  Schleswig-Holstein  question.  12-13. 

„  Napoleon  III.  13-14. 

,,  the  Franco-Prussian  war.  15. 
peasants  of.  83. 

education  in.  105,  106,  107,  no,  in. 

Rescripts,  the,  of  1716-17.  107. 

Psychologism,  Husserl  on.  19811. 

Psychology.  75. 

Piinjer,  B.  137b 
Pure  experience,  205. 

Rabbinism.  j.77,  183. 

Radcliffe,  Mrs.  Ann.  28n. 

Railways.  94,  95,  96. 

Ranke,  Leopold  von.  39-40  and  n.,  68. 

Rationalists.  134,  139,  142,  144. 

Realism.  202 n.,  21m. 

critical  (Riehl).  202,  205. 
naive.  208. 
transcendental.  208. 


Index 


261 


Recitativo  in  opera.  232,  233,  234,  238. 

Redemption.  174k,  177,  179. 

Reformation,  the.  3,  no,  122,  135,  176. 

Reformers.  176. 

before  the  Reformation.  176. 

Reger,  Max.  242. 

Reichstag,  the.  17-18. 

Religion.  3,  59,  60,  64,  108,  133-143- 
Renaissance,  the.  62,  68-69. 

Rescripts,  the  Prussian,  1716-17.  107. 

Research,  no,  120,  124,  125. 

Reuss,  E.  i59f. 

Reuter,  Fritz.  50. 

Revelation  of  John.  154,  156. 

Revolution  of  1789.  16.  of  1848.  65. 

industrial  revolution  in  England.  98. 

Rhine,  province  of  the.  9. 
frontier,  the.  15. 

Confederation  of  the.  See  Confederation. 

Richter,  J.  P.,  ‘Jean  Paul.’  38. 

Richter,  Hans.  240. 

Riehl,  A.  202  and  n.,  205. 

Ritschl,  A.  13 1,  i38f . ,  141,  155,  167,  169-184. 

Ritschlianism.  169-184. 

Ritschlian  School.  169^,  172,  182-184. 

Roebuck,  John  Arthur.  123. 

Romans,  Epistle  to  the.  153. 

Romantic  Movement.  134. 

Theology.  168,  175. 

Romanticism  in  Music.  228. 

Romantics,  the,  and  Romanticism  in  German  literature.  38,  40, 
45 1  49,  65,  73,  108. 

Roon,  General  von.  12. 

Rothe,  R.  168,  171. 

Rousseau,  Jean  Jacques.  28  and  n.,  29,  44,  57,  109.  196. 
Rousseauism.  43. 

Rubinstein,  A.  E.  241. 

Russia.  4,  6,  8,  9,  11,  13,  15,  19,  49. 

Russian  school  of  music.  242. 

Saint-Hilaire,  Geoffroy.  63. 

Saint-Pierre,  J.  H.  B.  de.  28. 

Saint-Saens,  Camille.  242. 

Sanday,  W.  171. 


262 


Index 


Sarasate.  241. 

Savigny,  Friedrich  Karl  von.  29  and  n.,  62,  63  and  n. 

Saxony.  86. 

Scharnhorst,  G.  J.  D.  von.  7. 

Schelling,  F.  W.  J.  134,  190,  191,  196,  199. 

Schiller,  J.  C.  F.  von.  28-29n.,  29,  30,  32 n.,  47,  70  and  n.,  190, 

191,  *96. 

Schlegel,  K.  W.  F.  von.  45. 

Schleiden,  Matthias  Jakob.  58. 

Schleiermacher,  F.  D.  E.  60,  109,  132-146,  167,  169,  171,  174, 
I77-I79- 

Schmiedel,  P.  W.  158. 

Scholars  and  scholarship.  45,  62,  64. 

Scholasticism.  177. 

Schools.  122. 

boarding.  126. 
continuation.  124. 

elementary.  7,  107,  109,  no,  112,  115,  116,  124. 
public.  1 16,  122. 

secondary.  109,  no,  in,  113,  116,  119,  120,  121,  122. 
kindergarten.  124. 
technical,  in,  12 1. 
music.  241. 

Schopenhauer,  Arthur.  36,  41,  73,  75,  188,  198,  199. 

Schrader,  E.  161. 

Schubert,  Franz  Peter.  221,  222,  227,  228,  231. 

Schul-Methodus,  the,  of  Duke  Ernest  of  Gotha.  107. 

Schumann,  Robert.  219,  228,  229,  233,  239,  240. 
and  the  symphony.  231. 

,,  „  worship  of  heroism.  228,  229. 

Schuppe,  W.  208. 

Schtirer,  E.  157. 

Schwegler,  A.  153k 
Schweitzer,  A.  145. 

Schweizer,  A.  168. 

Science.  31,  32,  33-3411.,  38,  40,  41,  42,  44,  58,  59,  61,  71,  76,  120. 
political.  108. 

State  Department  of  Art  and.  123. 

Scotland,  education  in.  106,  115,  116. 

Scripture.  See  Bible,  the. 

Sculpture.  38. 

Sellin,  E.  164. 

Sentimentalism.  181. 

Serfs  and  serfdom.  7. 


Index  263 

Shakespeare,  William.  51,  55,  234. 

Shelley,  P.  B.  48. 

Shipping.  95,  96,  97. 

Sigwart,  Chr.  189. 

Silesia.  15. 

Siloti.  241. 

Sin.  140,  168,  180. 

Sinlessness.  140. 

Smith,  Adam.  115. 

Socialism.  18,  95-96. 

Sociology.  56. 

Soden,  H.  von.  157. 

Sombart,  Werner.  81. 

Spain.  21,  27. 

“  Speeches  on  Religion.”  132-139. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  writings  of,  influence  of.  198,  199. 

Spinoza,  B.  134,  136,  144b 
Spohr,  L.  240,  241. 

Stade,  B.  163. 

Stael,  Madame  de.  28. 

State,  study  of  the.  56-58,  59. 

department  of  art  and  science.  123. 

,,  for  elementary  schools  and  training  colleges.  1 16. 
States  of  Germany.  8,  14,  17. 

„  central  Germany.  14,  105. 

„  north  ,,  3,  9,  14. 

,,  south  „  3,  9,  14,  17,  105. 

States,  ecclesiastical,  secularisation  of.  4,  8. 

Stein,  H.  F.  K.,  Baron  von.  7,  86,  92,  108. 

Stein-Hardenberg  reforms  in  Prussia.  86. 

Story,  the,  in  German  literature.  48-50,  71. 

Strassburg.  17. 

Strauss,  David  Friedrich.  60,  136,  144-152,  156,  165-167. 

Strauss,  Richard.  242. 

his  realism.  237. 

Stuttgart.  17. 

Subsidy,  government, 

for  education  in  Ireland.  115. 

,,  industry,  etc.  95. 

“  Supernatural  Religion,”  author  of.  1 7 1. 

Siivern,  Johann  Wilhelm.  109. 

Sybel,  Heinrich  von.  66. 

Symphonic  poem,  the.  239. 

Symphony,  the.  227,  233. 


264  Index 

Symphony,  the  importance  of.  227,  230. 

,,  modern.  231. 

Synoptic  Gospels.  15 1,  154,  156. 

Talley  rand-P6rigord,  C.  M.  de.  4. 

Tartini,  Giuseppe.  241. 

Teachers,  conference  of.  no. 

training  of.  no,  in,  116,  117,  121. 

Teaching,  methods  of.  125. 

Technology.  116-117,  12 1. 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  Lord.  47. 

Teufelsdrockh.  See  Carlyle,  T. 

Texte,  Joseph.  27 n. 

Theatre,  the.  48. 

Theistic  arguments.  173. 

Theology.  59,  108. 

Systematic.  i38f.,  141L,  171-173. 

Thessalonians,  Second  Epistle  to  the.  156. 

Thibaut,  A.  F.  J.  63  and  n. 

Thomas,  Albert.  14 n. 

Thomasius,  G.  168. 

Thuringia.  87. 

Tolstoy,  Leo,  Count.  49,  70. 

Towns.  49,  88,  98. 

biology  and  history  of.  49,  67. 
government  of.  76. 

Trade.  84,  85,  87,  88,  89,  90,  91,  96. 

foreign.  88,  91,  96. 

Travel,  literature  of.  43. 

Treitschke,  Heinrich  von.  66,  76. 

Trendelenburg,  A,  195*1. 

criticism  of  Hegel’s  dialectic.  i95n. 

Treviranus.  197. 

Triple  Alliance,  the.  See  Alliance. 

Tubingen  School.  145,  150-155,  159,  i7of. 

Turgenjev,  I.  S.  50,  51. 

Turgot,  A.  R.  J.,  Baron  de  Laune.  28  and  n.,  29,  56. 
Twesten,  A.  D.  C.  168. 

Ullmann,  C.  168. 

United  Kingdom.  See  Britain,  Great. 

Universities.  7,  108,  no,  hi,  116,  117,  118,  120,  121,  122,  124. 
English.  1 16,  1 17,  1 18. 

German.  108,  120. 

Roman  Catholic.  108. 


Index 


265 


Vaihinger,  H.  201,  202,  202n.,  203,  204,  206,  209,  21m. 

Vater,  J.  S.  i58f. 

Vatke,  W.  159b 

Verdi,  Giuseppe.  240,  242. 

Versailles,  German  Empire  proclaimed  at.  16. 

Victor  Emmanuel  II,  King  of  Italy.  14. 

Victoria,  Queen  of  England.  10,  13. 

Vienna.  5,  6,  8,  14. 

as  a  musical  centre.  220. 

Viennese,  the.  11. 

Vietor,  K.  A.  T.  W.  124. 

Villeinage.  83,  86. 

Virchow,  Rudolf.  34*2. 

Vocalist,  the  tyranny  of,  in  opera.  231,  232,  233,  234. 

Volkelt,  Johann.  71. 

Volkmar,  G.  171. 

Voltaire,  F.  M.  Arouet  de.  5,  2712.,  31,  41,  42. 

Voluntarism.  189,  203. 

Vorparlament  at  Frankfurt.  11. 

Wagner,  Richard,  73,  219 n.,  230,  233,  233m,  234,  235,  235m,  237, 
238,  240,  242. 
and  nature.  226,  237. 

„  opera.  233. 

,,  the  leit  motif.  234. 
as  a  critical  writer.  237-8. 

Brunhilde  (in  the  Ring  of  the  Nibelungen).  236. 

Elisabeth  (in  Tannhauser).  236. 

Elsa  (in  Lohengrin).  236. 
his  choice  of  themes.  236. 

,,  contribution  to  music.  238. 

„  „  to  technique  of  opera.  234 

,,  debt  to  Beethoven.  227. 

,,  „  Liszt.  239. 

,,  ideal  hero.  236. 

,,  operas.  221. 

„  philosophy.  236,  238. 

Lohengrin.  220,  230 n.,  234,  235,  239. 

Meistersinger,  die,  233,  234,  235. 

Parsifal.  235,  236. 

Ring  of  the  Nibelungen.  233,  234,  235,  237. 

Senta  (in  the  Flying  Dutchman).  236. 

Siegfried.  236. 

Tannhauser.  234,  235,  236. 

Tristan.  235,  236,  237. 

Valkiire.  234. 


266 


Index 


Waitz,  Georg.  68. 

Wales,  education  in.  116. 

Walpole,  Sir  Spencer.  13 n. 

Warren,  Sir  Charles,  expedition  of,  to  Bechuanaland. 
War,  the,  between  Austria  and  Prussia  of  1866.  12,  13 

the  English  Civil.  114. 
the  Franco-Prussian,  of  1870.  15,  90,  91. 

the  Napoleonic.  6,  7,  8,  12,  13. 
the  Seven  Years’.  32. 
the  Thirty  Years’.  3,  27. 

Watt,  H.  J.  214. 

Weber,  C.  M.  von.  232,  233,  234. 

and  the  modern  orchestra.  233. 

Der  Freischiitz.  232. 

Euryanthe.  233. 

Oberon.  233. 

Weimar.  30,  43,  74. 

Weinel,  H.  158. 

Weiss,  B.  158,  i83f. 

Weiss,  J.  158,  183^ 

Wellhausen,  J.  i6if. 

Weltbegriff,  der  Menschliche.  205ff. 

“  Weltpolitik.  ”  19. 

Wendt,  H.  H.  169,  172. 

Wernle,  P.  158. 

Westphalia.  9. 

Wiese,  Ludwig,  hi. 

William  I,  King  of  Prussia,  German  Emperor.  15. 
William  II,  „  ,,  ,,  ,,  21. 

Willich,  Henrietta  von.  143. 

Winckelmann,  Johann  Joachim.  38  and  n. 

Winckler,  H.  164. 

Windelband,  Wilhelm.  26 n.,  43. 

Wolf,  Friedrich  August.  29,  30,  39  and  n.,  63,  109. 
Wolf,  Hugo.  221. 

Wood,  Robert.  28,  30  and  n. 

Wordsworth,  William.  32,  33n.,  47,  55. 

Wundt,  Wilhelm  Max.  32,  47,  55,  75,  76,  189. 
Wiirtemberg.  10,  86,  106. 

Zahn,  T.  158. 

Zeller,  Eduard.  68,  143,  154. 

Zollverein,  the  German.  10,  86-87. 


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